UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS BULLETIN
THE KERNER REPORT
REVISITED
Final Report and Background Papers
ASSEMBLY ON THE KERNER REPORT REVISITED
Edited by Philip Meranto
THE INSTITUTE OF GOVERNMENT
and PUBLIC AFFAIRS
LIBRARY OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN
301 .451
As73k
COD .4
I .H.S
THE KEENER REPORT
REVISITED
Final Report and Background Papers
ASSEMBLY ON THE KERNER REPORT REVISITED
Allerton House, Monticello, Illinois
January 11-13, 1970
Edited by Philip Meranto
INSTITUTE OF GOVERNMENT AND PUBLIC AFFAIRS
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
JUNE 1970
/4a^'Z?-A foreword
Well over a year ago, the National Advisory Commission on Civil Dis-
orders published its far-reaching report identifying the causes of urban racial
violence. This important government document made a wide range of recom-
mendations that should be implemented if future racial disorder is to be
averted. The Commission became known as the Kerner Commission in
deference to its chairman, then Illinois Governor and now U.S. Circuit
Judge Otto Kerner.
As with many study commission reports, there is a tendency to file the
report and to virtually ignore its recommendations. To see if this was the
case, and to review the recommendations, the Institute of Government and
Public Affairs devoted its twelfth public affairs assembly to the topic of the
Kerner Report Revisited. The Assembly was held at the University's con-
ference center at Robert Allerton Park, Monticello, Illinois, January 11-13,
1970.
Judge Kerner was unable to participate, but he did write that "You
and the Assembly are doing precisely what the Commission hoped would be
done at a federal level where there would be an assembly point for gathering
information, analyzing it and drawing conclusions. You have no idea how
pleased I am that you have assumed this responsibility."
Participating in the Assembly were some forty Illinois leaders from political
life, business, journalism, and the academic world. They were chosen for
their knowledge and interest on the topic under discussion. The participants
were divided into three round-table groups for discussion and a "Statement
of Findings" was adopted by the participants at a final plenary session.
To aid the Assembly participants in their discussion, background papers
were prepared on the various areas that were of concern to the Kerner Com-
mission. Emphasis was on the implementation of the Commission recom-
mendations in Illinois and elsewhere. The authors were given maximum
freedom in preparing their papers, and the views and interpretations are
their own. The authors are from several academic departments of the Uni-
versity of Illinois. We are grateful to them.
We are also grateful to the Assembly's two keynote speakers, Professors
Mack Jones and David Olson, and to Chancellor Jack Peltason for his opening
remarks. Lastly, we thank all the participants for their fine contribution
to the success of the Assembly.
Samuel K. Gove
Director, Institute of Government
and Public Affairs
CONTENTS
FOREWORD iii
FINAL REPORT OF THE ASSEMBLY ON THE KERNER REPORT REVISITED 1
BACKGROUND PAPERS 7
THE KERNER REPORT REVISITED: AN OVERVIEW
Philip Meranto 9
THE KERNER COMMISSION RECOMMENDATIONS REVISITED: EMPLOYMENT
Walter Franke 13
THE KERNER COMMISSION REPORT AND EDUCATIONAL CHANGE
J. Myron Atkin 25
WELFARE RECOMMENDATIONS OF THE NATIONAL ADVISORY COMMISSION ON CIVIL
DISORDERS AND ADC IN ILLINOIS
Merlin Taber 31
RESPONSES TO THE KERNER REPORT HOUSING RECOMMENDATIONS
Michael Murray 45
POLICE-COMMUNITY RELATIONS
David J. Bordua 59
THE KERNER REPORT AND THE MASS MEDIA
Gene Graham 87
STATE LEGISLATIVE REACTION TO THE KERNER COMMISSION REPORT:
THE CASE OF ILLINOIS
Thomas Kitsos and Joseph Pisciotte 97
CONGRESS AND THE COMMISSIONERS: A NEW SPECIES OF OVERSIGHT
Marvin G. Weinbaum 119
FUTURE RACE RELATIONS
Norton E. Long 135
THE POSSIBILITIES FOR POLITICAL CHANGE
Michael Parenti 143
SPEECHES
THE KERNER COMMISSION: ERRORS AND OMISSIONS
Mack H. Jones 153
RIOT COMMISSIONS AND POLITICAL CHANGE
David J. Olson 163
AUTHORS 171
PARTICIPANTS AND STAFF 175
REPORT OF THE ASSEMBLY
REPORT OF THE ASSEMBLY
The participants in the Illinois Assembly on the Kerner Report
Revisited meeting at Robert AUerton Park, Monticello, Illinois,
January 11-13, 1970, approved this summary of their findings
at the conclusion of their discussions. Since there were dissents on
particular points, it should not be assumed that every participant
subscribed to every detail of the statements contained herein.
The Assembly concludes that the Kerner Report [Report of
the National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders) was a
forthright effort to respond to the racial disturbances of 1967.
The fact that the Commission dispelled the notion that outside
agitators stimulated disorder and implicated white society as
being responsible for ghetto conditions, and the accompanying
violence, was viewed by the Assembly participants as an impor-
tant but incomplete contribution to public understanding.
The Report, however, also had several shortcomings. Its basic
finding that "white racism" was the fundamental cause of racial
disorders and the emphasis placed upon that finding by the mass
media have given the erroneous impression that the guilt of white
society is simply a matter of prejudicial attitudes. The Kerner
Commission Report failed to specify exactly what was meant
by white racism and largely ignored the problem of institutional
racism — the less overt, more subtle acts that sustain and per-
petuate racist policies in virtually every American institution.
Thus, the Report placed too much emphasis on changing white
attitudes and underplayed the importance of changing white
behavior and the basic structure of such institutions as schools,
labor unions, and political parties.
The Commission also failed to note that many whites may not
be motivated primarily by racial prejudice, but may be respond-
ing to what they feel is an objective threat to their own self-inter-
est. For example, white construction workers may oppose black
workers, not only because of racial attitudes, but also because of
labor market characteristics.
Additionally, the Report tended to dismiss too easily the grow-
ing emphasis of black nationalism within black communities and
thus failed to deal with the implications of this changing mood
for the larger society.
Ill
The shortcomings of the Report itself are not so important
as the shortcomings of white society in rooting out racism. The
background papers and discussions made it clear that during
the past two years black people in Illinois have gained very little
relative to white people in such areas as employment, education,
and housing. In short, the reception of the Report by the govern-
ment and the people to which it was addressed has been ex-
tremely disappointing. Consequently, the Assembly participants
strongly urge that this state and the nation be put on a "crisis
footing," which includes making a major commitment of re-
sources for implementing the Report's recommendations. Such
a commitment would necessitate a considerably increased public
sector and a reallocation within the public sector from military
to domestic expenditures.
The stimulation of such a commitment requires the mobili-
zation of political resources. Consequently, the Assembly urges
white society to support and facilitate the development of black
organizations and black political action. Further, the Assembly
urges all segments of white society to recognize their own self-
interest in achieving racial justice and to engage in political
action directed toward that goal.
Finally, the participants were deeply disturbed by the incli-
nation of some governmental bodies to respond to black needs
with repression rather than reform. America cannot be a just
society if repression is substituted for redressing the inequalities
of our society.
IV
Our extremely common response of political leaders is the
creation of commissions whenever an especially intractable prob-
lem appears on the political scene. Commission studies too often
serve to deflect attention from the problems at hand and to re-
duce the level of political activity that might be undertaken to
solve them. Regrettably, the Kerner Report, through no fault
of the Commission, has fallen into this pattern.
The habit of appointing commissions also indicates a tendency
to study problems to death rather than to institute meaningful
action. The Assembly believes this particular problem has had
sufficient study by commissions and that the energy of responsi-
ble authorities should now be directed to the implementation of
reforms w hich are essential to peace and justice in the society.
BACKGROUND PAPERS
THE KERNER REPORT REVISITED: AN OVERVIEW
PHILIP MERANTO
On July 28, 1967, after four summers of unprecedented racial disorders
in American cities, President Lyndon Johnson established the National Ad-
visory Commission on Civil Disorders. The President directed the Commission
to deal with three basic questions concerning the outbreak of urban violence :
(1) What happened? (2) Why did it happen? (3) What can be done to
prevent it from happening again?
Under the direction of Governor Otto Kerner of Illinois (Chairman)
and Mayor John V. Lindsay of New York City (Vice Chairman), the
Commission launched the nation's most comprehensive investigation of racial
strife. Commission members^ and their stafT visited riot cities, conducted
numerous hearings, and consulted with a wide variety of knowledgeable
individuals. In March, 1968, the Commission delivered, to the President
and the American public, a 581 -page report detailing their findings.
Concerning the question of what happened, the Commission established
several important facts. Contrary to a widely held public impression that
many of the disorders were planned by black extremist organizations and/or
communist conspirators, the Commission reported that it "found no evidence
that all or any of the disorders or the incidents that led to them were planned
or directed by any organization or group, international, national, or local."^
While the Report indicated that there was no such entity as a "typical"
riot, several common features were identified. It was found, for example,
that violence did not erupt as a result of a single precipitating event, but
was usually generated out of a series of tension-building incidents which
occurred over a period of time and were capped by a quite often routine
event (generally involving police action of some sort) which triggered the
disorder. Once the disorder broke out, the targets of violence generally
' In addition to Chairman Kerner and Vice Chairman Lindsay, the Commission
included: Senator Fred R. Harris; Senator Edward W. Brooke; Representative James
C. Corman; Representative William M. McCullock; I. W. Abel, President, United
Steelworkers of America; Charles B. Thornton, Chairman of the Board, Litton In-
dustries, Inc. ; Roy Wilkins, Executive Director, National Association for the Ad-
vancement of Colored People ; Katherine Graham Peden, Commissioner of Commerce,
State of Kentucky; and Herbert Jenkins, Chief of Police, Atlanta, Georgia.
^Report of the National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders (New York:
Bantam Books, 1968), p. 9.
consisted of the symbols of white society, authority figures, and property in
the ghetto, rather than white persons. The overwhelming majority of the indi-
viduals killed or injured as a result of the violence was Negro civilians. The
Report described the typical rioter in the following manner: "a teenager or
young adult, a lifetime resident of the city in which he rioted, a school drop-
out; he was, nevertheless, somewhat better educated than his nonrioting
Negro neighbor, and was usually under-employed or employed in a menial
job. He was proud of his race, extremely hostile to both whites and middle-
class Negroes, and, although informed about politics, highly distrustful of
the political system."^
Turning to the question of why the racial disorders occurred, the Com-
mission uncovered several basic causes. Among the various causes, the Report
concluded that: "the most fundamental is the racial attitude and behavior
of white Americans toward black Americans.
. . . White racism is essentially responsible for the explosive mixture
which has been accumulating in our cities since the end of World War II."*
In specifying the ingredients of this "explosive mixture," the Report included
such factors as:
1. Pervasive discrimination and segregation in employment, education,
and housing, which has resulted in the continuing exclusion of great numbers
of Negroes from the benefits of economic progress.
2. The concentration of impoverished Negroes in major cities, creating a
growing crisis of deteriorating facilities and services and unmet human needs.
3. The restriction of Negroes in ghettos where segregation and poverty
converge on the young to destroy opportunity and enforce failure.
4. A backlog of frustrated hopes as a result of the unfilled expecta-
tions aroused by the judicial and legislative victories of the Civil Rights
Movement.
5. The development of a social climate which tends to approve and
encourage violence as a form of protest resulting from white terrorism directed
against nonviolent protest, the open defiance of law and federal authority by
state and local officials resisting desegregation, and the utilization of civil
disobedience by some protest groups who do not adhere to nonviolence.
6. A pervasive feeling of powerlessness among Negroes that there is no ef-
fective alternative to violence as a means of achieving redress of grievances
which include: police practices, unemployment and underemployment,
inadequate housing, inadequate educational opportunities, poor recreational
facilities, and ineffective grievance mechanisms.
In summary, then, the Commission concluded that the basic underlying
causes of racial disorders stemmed primarily from the actions and conditions
' Ibid., p. 7.
* Ibid., p. 10.
created by white Americans. Focusing on the destructive environment of
the ghetto, the Report states: "What white Americans have never fully
understood — but the Negro can never forget — is that white society is
deeply implicated in the ghetto. White institutions created it, white insti-
tutions maintain it, and white society condones it."^
After recounting the historical roots of the basic causes, the Report in-
cluded a series of recommendations to prevent the eruption of future racial
violence. Although numerous specific recommendations were made, the
following list indicates the more general remedies set forth by the Commission.
1. The enactment of special programs in the areas of housing, education,
employment, and welfare to eliminate discrimination and to provide greatly
expanded opportunities for ghetto residents.
2. Improvement in the channels of communications between ghetto
residents and government officials, including more responsive grievance
mechanisms.
3. Expansion of the opportunities for ghetto residents to participate
in all phases of decision-making.
4. Improved police protection in ghetto communities and improved
police practices relative to the treatment of black citizens.
5. Improvement in the training of police so as to achieve better control
of incidents which could lead to future disorder, and the refrainment from the
indiscriminate and excessive use of police force. "The Commission condemns
moves to equip police departments with mass destruction weapons, such
as automatic rifles, machine guns, and tanks."
Looking toward the future, the Kerner Commission Report indicated that
American society could pursue three basic policy alternatives. It could main-
tain the present policies which allocate a meager proportion of the nation's
wealth to the disadvantaged and have failed to achieve an integrated society.
Alternatively, it could follow a policy of "enrichment," which would dra-
matically improve the quality of ghetto life but abandon integration as a goal.
Or, America could adopt a policy of integration by combining ghetto "en-
richment" with programs designed to disperse blacks from central cities.
The Commission warned that: "To continue present policies is to make
permanent the division of our country into two societies; one, largely Negro
and poor, located in central cities; the other, predominantly white and affluent,
located in the suburbs and in outlying areas."*'
Which of the above choices has been pursued? In what direction are
American race relations heading and why? These were the basic questions
posed at the Institute of Government and Public AfTairs 1970 Assembly. In
order to stimulate an informed discussion on such questions, several partici-
nbld., p. 2.
' Ibid., p. 22.
pants were invited to write background papers in preparation for the Assembly
and two guest speakers delivered papers.
The composite picture which emerged from the papers and the talks is not
an encouraging one. Although some marginal positive gains were identified,
those gains were clearly the exceptions to the general conclusion of virtually
all the authors that the Kerner Commission recommendations have been
largely ignored. Indeed, Professor Mack Jones of Atlanta University maintains
that:
. . . things have gotten worse for Black people. Some welfare programs are being
cut; the Nixon-Mitchell administration is obviously unfriendly toward the Black
liberation struggle; hostile forces have been sent to city halls and state houses in
alarming numbers; police forces around the country have stockpiled monstrous
arsenals to pacify Black communities; the McClelland subcommittee has published
more than 20 volumes, including mugshots, on radical groups paving the way for
quick identification and perhaps elimination; demographers tell us that Black in-
migration to the cities will continue, and we do not need demographers to tell us
that whites will continue to run to the suburbs. Thus, cities are likely to become
impoverished islands inhabitated by nationalist-oriented Black people and sur-
rounded by affluent suburbs inhabited by nationalist-oriented \vhite people.
Why the society continues to move in this disastrous direction was not com-
pletely answered. However, several of the writers did identify factors which
have contributed to the drift. Professor Olson, for example, argued that it was
misleading to assume, as many have, that riot commission reports are capable
of stimulating significant political change. In his estimation, "riot commissions
are devices by -which dominant power interests deflect demands for power
redistribution in the aftermath of civil violence." In this sense, riot com-
missions and their recommendations are instmments which essentially reduce
the pressure on public officials to take meaningful action. Additionally, Pro-
fessor Weinbaum pointed out that the Kerner Report did not present its
recommendations in a manner that was sensitive to the realities of gaining
majorities in Congress for individual recommendations. This, in fact, he ex-
plains, is why the Commission's proposals received so little consideration on
Capitol Hill.
Professors Long and Parenti, however, suggest that the problem is con-
siderably deeper than the form in which proposals for change are presented.
Long argues that "If what the Kerner Commission calls for is indeed neces-
sary, it is probably beyond the power of American society as presently con-
stituted." He notes that the political problem is a vicious circle in which the
powerless cannot produce change because they are powerless. According to
Parenti, this circumstance challenges the commonly accepted notion that
American institutions, as they are presently constructed and controlled, are
capable of producing significant reform. "Given the 'three R's' of politics —
Reform, Repression, and Revolution — it can no longer be taken as an article
of faith that we are movinar toward the first."
12
THE KERNER COMMISSION RECOMMENDATIONS REVISITED: EMPLOYMENT
WALTER FRANKE
Two years, the time period since the Kerner Commission Report, is a
ver>' short time for assessing the employment progress of any group in the
labor force. The American labor force comprises over 80 million persons,
nearly 90 per cent of whom are white. In a typical year, between 1.5 and 2.0
million additional jobs are created. By virtue of the relative sizes of the white-
nonwhite components of the labor force and new entrants into it, most of the
new jobs that are created, as well as existing jobs that open up because of
quits, retirements, and deaths, will be filled by whites. Using even the most
optimistic assumptions and goals for improvement in the job status of Negroes,
therefore, dramatic change is likely to occur over decades rather than years.
Nevertheless, it should be useful to look at the job situation for Negroes
currently and in the recent past, consider what is required to continue in the
long run the progress that has been made recently, and examine current pro-
grams designed to improve the employment prospects of Negroes and other
disadvantaged groups in light of the Kerner Commission recommendations.
The Job Situation
The economic goal for Negroes is full equality. From the point of view of
emplo)Tnent, this can be interpreted to mean that Negro workers should be
represented proportionately in the major occupational groupings.^ Several
factors, including the uneven geographic distribution of the Negro labor force,
will result in departures from a common occupational distribution for whites
and nonwhites even in a situation of equality, but comparable distributions for
the two groups can ser\'e as a rough norm of equality.
The data in Table 1 show the job situation currently and in the recent
past. As is well known, Negroes are grossly overrepresented in the unskilled
laborer and service categories.^ Although they comprise less than 1 1 per cent
of total employment, Negroes are nearly 25 per cent of all unskilled laborers,
44 per cent of private household workers, and over 23 per cent of all service
' This standard is suggested by Otto Eckstein, Education, Employment and Negro
Equality (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Department of Labor, Seminar on Manpower
Policy and Program, October, 1968), p. 4.
" The figures are for nonwhites. Since Negroes represent over four-fifths of all
nonwhites, the figures can be used to approximate the situation for Negroes.
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workers. For the most part, although important exceptions exist, these are
occupational groups in which pay and status are relatively low. Negroes are
seriously underrepresented, on the other hand, in occupational groups which
are generally better paid and more attractive in other respects. They com-
prise between 3 per cent and 8 per cent of total employment in the skilled
craftsmen and white-collar occupations.
Although these figures show a serious departure from the norm of equality,
they also represent a considerable improvement from the recent past. Com-
pared with 1962, and even with as recent a period as 1967, the proportion
that Negroes represent of employment in the skilled craftsmen and in each
of the white-collar categories has increased. The gains have been greatest in
the professional and technical, clerical, and craftsmen categories. Only slight
improvement has occurred in the sales and in the managers, officials, and
proprietors categories.
Clearly, new and greater employment opportunities have presented them-
selves to Negro members of the labor force during the past half dozen years.
Prompted by the efforts and activities of civil rights groups and the require-
ments of the law, significant changes in the attitude of many employers toward
the hiring of black workers has occurred. And some movement in the direc-
tion of equality of opportunity has also taken place in those portions of the
labor movement previously noted for their poor record.
A further measure of inequality between the races is the extent of unemploy-
ment. For many years the rate of unemployment for Negroes has been ap-
proximately double that of whites and has frequently been greater. The latest
figures on unemployment stand precisely in that relationship. In November,
1969, 3.1 per cent of the white and 6.2 per cent of the nonwhite labor force
were unemployed. This situation represents a slight relative improvement for
Negroes from that of a year earlier, when the rates for the two groups were
3.0 and 6.5 per cent, respectively. Nevertheless, the problem of closing the
unemplo)'ment gap between whites and Negroes has thus far proven in-
tractable. The most serious problem has been and remains the very high level
of unemployment among Negro teenagers, for whom unemployment rates
have regularly been in the range of 20 to 30 per cent in recent years.
Prospects for Improvement in the Job Situation
The improvements in the Negro job situation represented by the shifts
in the Negro occupational distribution are to a considerable extent the result
of the upgrading of Negroes who were previously in jobs which underutilized
their educational and skill level. This upgrading has been relatively easy
because it could be accomplished by moving Negroes into higher level jobs
for which they were already qualified by educational background and skill.
This process will undoubtedly continue to take place in the future.
Whites and Negroes with similar educational backgrounds, though not
necessarily with similar experience or training, still have strikingly different
occupational distributions. These distributions are shown in Table 2 for
workers whose highest year of schooling completed is the fourth year of high
school and for workers who have completed one or more years of college.
Even allowing for differences in the quality of education received and for
differences in experience and skill training, the figures suggest that room exists
for additional occupational upgrading of the Negro labor force.
Nevertheless, this source of occupational upgrading will gradually dis-
appear, and the question is raised of whether recent rates of progress can be
maintained. The probable answer is that increased efforts will be required to
continue progress at the same rate.
Estimates have been made of the speed at which Negroes will approach
the occupational status of whites if progress continues at the rate of recent
years.^ The estimates are made for the year 1985, when Negro employment
is expected to represent 12 per cent of the total. The estimates indicate that
Negroes would have :
10.6 per cent of professional and technical jobs,
8.4 per cent of clerical jobs,
6.0 per cent of sales jobs, and
8.8 per cent of skilled craftsmen jobs.
Negroes would still be heavily overrepresented in the categories in which
they now predominate, in that they would comprise about 24 per cent of all
nonfarm laborers, 38 per cent of private household workers, and nearly 25
per cent of farm laborers.
Policies for Improved Employment Opportunities
The progress that has been made thus far toward equality of employment
opportunity has in at least two respects been possible because of particularly
favorable circumstances for improvement. One is the gap that existed be-
tween the jobs many Negroes were engaged in and the jobs for which they
were qualified. As has been already indicated, this source of improvement will
gradually disappear. The other is the high level of economic activity in the
United States of the past half dozen years. Further progress will be dependent
upon maintaining a full emplo)'ment economy.
In addition, larger and more effective private and public policies will need
to be implemented if we are to approach the goal of full emplo)Tnent equality
at an acceptable rate of speed.
Education. The link between educational attainment and occupational
achievement is clear. The typical professional and technical job requires a
college degree or at least some education at the college level. A high school
' Eckstein, op. cit., pp. 5-7.
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diploma is the norm for managerial, clerical, sales, and skilled craftsmen jobs.
Conservative projections of trends since 1948 indicate that the typical semi-
skilled operative and service job will be held by a high school graduate in
1985 (see Table 3).
Eckstein has estimated that to maintain recent rates of occupational
progress through 1985, 68 per cent of the nonwhite labor force needs to be
high school graduates and 15 per cent should be college graduates. To reach
occupational status comparable to that of whites by 1985, the comparable
figures should be 75 per cent and 17 per cent, respectively.* As of 1968, less
than 43 per cent of the nonwhite labor force were high school graduates, and
less than 7 per cent had completed college.^ Although the level of educational
attainment among Negroes has been increasing rapidly, a large gap will exist
between what is required and what is attained unless the rate of college
attendance is increased substantially and the rate of high school completion
among Negroes is increased very substantially. At the current rate of progress,
Negroes will not have attained the required educational levels as a group until
the end of this century.®
The implications of this analysis for educational policy are considered in
detail in another paper (Atkin). Suffice it to say that substantially greater
investments in education will be required by government, Negro students,
and their families. In the past the return on investment in education has been
much lower for Negroes than for whites, and the result was that the incentive
for educational attainment was lacking. But this situation is changing as em-
ployment discrimination against Negroes declines, and it can be anticipated
that the returns to Negroes on educational investment will rise rapidly.
Hiring Policies and Manpower Utilization. It is apparent that if improve-
ment of the occupational status of Negroes waits entirely on the upgrading of
the educational level of the Negro work force, the pace of advancement will be
unacceptably slow. To some extent the link that has developed between edu-
cational and occupational attainment will have to be relaxed. The high school
diploma has become the necessary entry qualification for an ever-increasing
number of jobs, many of them jobs that were once performed and still are
performed by workers with lesser levels of education. To some extent a re-
duction in educational requirements for some jobs will come about through
the force of developing trends. If full emplo^Tnent is maintained consistently,
the resulting tight labor markets will result in shortages of labor unless entry
requirements are relaxed. In addition, however, special efforts need to be
made by governments, companies, and unions to open occupational doors to
Negroes who do not meet the usual formal job requirements. In the white-
* Ibid., p. 8.
^ U.S. Department of Labor, Statistics on Manpower: A Supplement to the Man-
power Report of the President (March, 1969), pp. 37-38.
' Eckstein, op. cit., pp. 9-10.
TABLE 3. MEDIAN YEARS OF SCHOOL COMPLETED BY OCCUPATIONAL GROUP AND RACE,
MARCH, 1967
Occupational group
March,
, 1967
1985
White
Nonwhite
total
White-collar workers:
Professional and technical
16.2
16.5
16.3
Managers, officials, and proprietors
12.7
12.2
12.6
Clerical
12.5
12.5
12.5
Sales
12.5
12.3
12.5
Blue-collar workers:
Craftsmen and foremen
12.0
10.2
12.5
Operatives
10.9
10.4
12.0
Nonfarm laborers
10.0
8.6
11.0
Service workers:
Private household
9.8
8.5
10.0
Other
11.7
10.7
12.0
Farm workers:
Farmers and farm managers
9.3
6.7
8.8
Farm laborers and foremen
8.9
6.0
8.4
Total — all occupational groups
12.4
10.8
n.a.
Sources: Data for 1967 are from U.S. Department of Labor, Statistics on Manpower: A
Supplement to the Manpower Report of the President (March, 1969), pp. 41-42. Figures for 1985
are projections of trends since 1948 and are found in Otto Eckstein, Education, Employment, and
Negro Equality (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Department of Labor, Seminar on Manpower Policy and
Program, October, 1968), p. 8.
collar occupations, affirmative actions by employers, along with equality of
educational opportunity, are the key elements. Perhaps more importantly,
in the case of blue-collar jobs, on which the largest number of Negroes are
no\v emplo)ed, unions will bear a major responsibility. As one example, it
may be necessary for unions and union members to make concessions on such
matters as probationary periods, seniority, and entry requirements to training
programs in order for meaningful progress to be made.
Many examples of efTorts in these directions already exist. In the auto
industry, and particularly Ford Motor Company, standard job application
procedures and reading and arithmetic tests have been abandoned. Addi-
tionally applicants are not disqualified either for lack of experience or the
existence of police records. The program, which has full union support, also
includes intensive efTorts to recruit in the ghetto. The Joint Council of
Teamsters in Los Angeles, with the help of a Department of Labor grant, has
instituted its Transportation Opportunities Program (TOP), which trains and
creates employment for disadvantaged residents of Los Angeles. Men are
trained as truck drivers, dock workers, warehousemen, bus drivers, hostlers,
heavy duty servicemen, brake and front-end alignment men, diagnostic land
and tune-up specialists, tire repairmen, and service station operators. The
training is available to the unemployed, the underemployed, and Teamster
members who wish to upgrade their skills. The AFL-CIO has set up a non-
profit organization called the Human Resources Development Institute to
attempt to mobilize the resources of labor in recruiting, training, employing,
and upgrading the hard-core unemployed and the underemployed/
These types of efforts, while far from typical or universal, reflect a new
readiness to depart from the status quo in some sectors of industry and labor.
That there is resistance to opening the gates of occupational opportunity is
revealed by the fact that since 1964 the Federal Equal Employment Oppor-
tunity Commission has received over 40,000 charges of discrimination in
violation of Title VII of the Civil Rights Act and has found discrimination in
60 per cent of them. The Commission itself is attempting to encourage the
adoption of affirmative action programs, particularly in industry. Its most
recent activity in this direction was a three-day workshop for 40 executives
of national trade associations in which it attempted to encourage association
activities in the areas of recruitment, hiring, testing, and upgrading of
minority group persons.
Finally, members of minority group communities have taken increased
responsibility and demanded and obtained increased control over their own
progress. This trend has been particularly evident in the areas of education
and Negro entrepreneurship. Black caucuses in labor unions have also de-
veloped, and if the Nixon manpower proposals embodied in the Manpower
Training Act of 1969 become law, the result will probably be more com-
munity responsibility for federal manpower programs. These developments
have frequently resulted in serious conflict and confrontation, but they may
also eventually result in progress in the employment area that would not
otherwise occur.
Federal Manpower Programs. In fiscal year 1970 the federal govern-
ment is spending about 1 .6 billion dollars on a variety of manpower programs
designed primarily to give training, work experience, or related supportive
services to unemployed or underemployed persons in an effort to prepare them
for entry into jobs. The $1.6 billion figure, which compares with the $1.4
billion allocated for manpower programs in fiscal year 1969, is expected to
provide manpower services for slightly over one million workers.* The main
programs in terms of number of persons served and number of dollars spent
include the Job Opportunities in the Business Sector (JOBS) program, the
Concentrated Employment Program (CEP), the institutional and on-the-job
Manpower Development and Training Act (MDTA) programs, the Neigh-
' Details on these and other programs can be found in "Business, Labor, and
Jobs in the Ghetto," Issues in Industrial Society, Vol. 1, No. 1 (Ithaca: New York
State School of Industrial and Labor Relations, 1969), pp. 3-18.
* Because an unknown number of persons receive services from more than one
manpower program, the number of different persons who will be beneficiaries will be
less than the one million figure indicated, perhaps by a considerable margin.
borhood Youth Corps, the Job Corps, and the Work Incentive Program
(WIN).
For the most part, these programs can be viewed as remedial ; that is, they
are designed to pick up people for whom the regular educational and training
institutions were unsuccessful in preparing them for productive contributions
to the economy. Most of the enrollees in these programs are disadvantaged;
that is, they are members of poverty households and have other characteristics,
such as low levels of education, that put them at a serious disadvantage in
the competition for jobs. Disproportionately large numbers of the recipients
of the manpower services provided by these programs are Negroes. In 1968,
Negroes comprised 45 per cent of the institutional and 33 per cent of the
on-the-job MDTA trainees, over 40 per cent of the Neighborhood Youth
Corps, 81 per cent of those in the Concentrated Employment Program, 74
per cent of those in the relatively small New Careers program, and a large
majority of trainees in the JOBS program of the National Alliance of
Businessmen.
Manpower programs are aimed primarily at removing persons from the
ranks of the unemployed and from sub-marginal, low-paying jobs. To the
extent that the programs are successful, they prepare workers for entry-level
jobs. They do not make a large contribution, although there are exceptions,
to moving people to the higher levels of the occupational hierarchy. They are
nevertheless important, and the Nixon Administration is departing from past
practice by making funds available in 1970 for the training costs of upgrading
persons who are already on the job, particularly persons who are newly placed
in employment. The ultimate goal of the shift in policy, according to Arnold
Wever, Assistant Secretary of Labor for Manpower, is "not just to get jobs
at the lower rung of the ladder, but to provide institutions and incentives so
that there will be a normal distribution of opportunities throughout the entire
occupational range." In addition, the shift to more emphasis on upgrading
anticipates that as the disadvantaged move up the job ladder they will vacate
entry-level jobs and thereby clear the way for other disadvantaged people to
obtain a start in the job market. In part, the shift has grown out of the fear
that entry-level jobs will become clogged with the newly-employed disad-
vantaged, and inadequate numbers of job slots will be available for new
graduates of manpower programs.
The Nixon Administration has also reallocated manpower funds, which
has resulted in a two-and-one-half-fold increase in the JOBS program and
reductions in the size of the Neighborhood Youth Corps and the Job Corps.
The expansion of the JOBS program reflects the intention of the Administra-
tion to place increased reliance on the private business sector to provide train-
ing and jobs for the disadvantaged. The decrease in resources devoted to the
Job Corps is the result of the Secretary of Labor's decision to close 59 of the
21
existing 109 Job Corps Centers on July 1, 1969, The Job Coi-ps is a very
expensive program and has been afflicted with high rates of dropout. The
Labor Department has indicated that it eventually plans to replace some of
the Job Corps Centers with 30 new inner-city and near-city training centers in
which the training emphasis will be shifted from conservation work to in-
dustrial occupations and job placement.
The effectiveness of manpower programs has suffered from its fraction-
alized approach to manpower problems arising from multiple funding and
administrative agencies and a weak apparatus for coordinating activities. The
result has sometimes been duplication of services and a poor distribution of
activity with respect to priority objectives. In the Administration's proposed
Manpower Training Act of 1969, the problem of coordination would be
met by a decentralization of the responsibility for developing manpower pro-
grams to states and local areas and a scrapping of the present multitude of
separate, categorical programs.
Negroes in the Construction Trades. Special mention needs to be made
of the increasingly intensive demands by coalitions of Negro and other groups
for more rapid progress in increasing the employment of blacks in the build-
ing trades. Disputes have occurred in several major cities, some of which
involved picketing of construction sites in an effort to enforce demands on
contractors and unions to admit more blacks to the various trades and to
make stronger efforts to include blacks in apprenticeship and other training
programs.
Efforts to settle the disputes have taken several forms. Perhaps the most
controversial settlement resulted in the "Philadelphia Plan," which was put
in force by executive order using the government's contract compliance au-
thority. Under this plan bidders on federally-assisted construction work are
required to submit affirmative action plans setting forth specific goals for
the utilization of minority employees. The plan requires minority employment
in six skilled crafts in Philadelphia to reach levels of about 20 to 25 per cent
within four years.
The Comptroller General of the United States has taken the position
that the plan is illegal under the 1964 Civil Rights Act because it requires
government contractors to take race into consideration in their hiring. He has
also said that he will not approve expenditures of federal funds for contracts
made under the plan. The AFL-CIO Building Trades Department has ex-
pressed unalterable opposition to the plan and labeled it an unlawful quota
system.
Nevertheless, the Labor Department has issued an order implementing
the Philadelphia Plan and has begun analysis of minority employment in the
building trades in other cities with a view toward possible establishment of
similar plans. This development is of particular interest because it repre-
22
sents one of the strongest governmental efforts to bring about minorit)' prog-
ress in emplo)Tnent through contract compliance. It is also of interest be-
cause it was attempted at a time when other governmental policies were
producing high interest rates and a resulting depression in the contract con-
struction industry. Thus, its efforts to expand minority emplo)-ment by way
of contract compliance is at least partially offset by policies which restrict
the job opportunities available.
The Kerner Commission Recommendations
The central recommendation of the Kerner Commission for meeting the
job needs of the unemployed and the underemployed was for a program that
would create one million new jobs in the public sector and one million new
jobs in the private sector in three years. The Commission felt that new jobs
in the public sector could be provided quickly, particularly at the local level,
where there are "Vast unmet needs in education, health, recreation, public
safety, sanitation, and other important municipal services." For additional
jobs in the private sector for the hard-core unemployed, the Commission
recommended that private enterprise be subsidized in "a massive additional
spur to job development" to cover the extra costs of supportive services and
training necessary for steady emplo)Tnent.
Other "basic strategies" proposed by the Commission included: consoli-
dation by function of existing programs aimed at recruiting, training, and
job development; more emphasis on the problem of motivating the hard-
core unemployed; removal by both public agencies and private employers
of artificial barriers to employment and promotion; and validation of testing
procedures or replacement of testing with work samples or actual job tr)Outs.
Concerning the coordination of the many manpower programs, the Com-
mission recommended that every cit)' establish a comprehensive manpower
recruitment and service agency with authority to direct the coordination of
all manpower programs in the locality, including those of the Federal-State
Employment Service, the communit)- action agencies, and other local groups.
Relative to job development and placement in private industry^, the Com-
mission indicated that "it may be helpful now to create a federally-chartered
corporation with authority to undertake the coordination of the private
sector job program." For financing the new jobs called for in the private
sector, increases from the $1,000 per year to at least $3,500 in the direct-
reimbursement system in use for on-the-job training was recommended, as
well as adoption of a tax credit system for employers expanding their em-
plo)'ment of the hard-core unemployed.
Taking first the recommendation for job creation in the private sector,
the principles suggested by the Kerner Commission have been made opera-
tive in the JOBS program of the National Alliance of Businessmen. The
23
Alliance coordinates the work of obtaining commitments from private firms
to hire the disadvantaged and provides assistance to the firm in contracting
with the Labor Department for training subsidies. The subsidies provided
can be as high as $3,500 per trainee per year, the figure recommended by
the Commission. The size of the program, however, falls short of the Com-
mission suggestion of one million jobs in three years. At the end of the first
year on June 30, 1969, somewhat over 100,000 persons were in training or
employment under the program. The second-year goal is 230,000, and the
three-year total expected to be trained and employed under the program
is 614,000. The program has been expanded from the original 50 large cities
to include the entire United States, although the National Alliance's volun-
tary (nonsubsidized) training efforts will be confined to 125 metropolitan
areas. For the first time in 1970, federal funds will be available for pro-
grams of upgrading the disadvantaged already on the job.
The JOBS program has had considerable success in mobilizing business
firms to increase their training and hiring of Negroes and other disadvan-
taged workers. The main question about the program is whether new jobs
are being created for the disadvantaged, which was the Kerner Commission
recommendation; or whether existing jobs are more frequently being filled
by the disadvantaged. It is probably more the latter than the former.
The Kerner Commission recommendation for the creation of one million
new jobs for the hard-core unemployed in the public sector has gone largely
unrealized. Two small programs. New Careers and Operation Mainstream,
are the only federal programs of public employment aimed particularly at
employing the unemployed and disadvantaged. The two programs together
provide employment opportunities for less than 17,000 people.
The cost of the Kerner Commission proposals for the creation of jobs in
the public sector would alone have exceeded the total amounts being spent
at the time on all existing manpower programs. W. Willard Wirtz, Secretary
of Labor at the time, supported the purposes of the Emergency Employment
and Training Act of 1968, which would have provided funds for the creation
of 1.2 million new jobs each in the private and public sectors over a four-
year period, but objected to the establishment of still additional manpower
programs and indicated a preference for additional financial support for
existing programs.
As some of the earlier discussion has indicated, steps have been taken
toward solution of the problem of Negro employment in directions suggested
by the Kerner Commission, including more emphasis on contract compliance,
improved coordination of existing manpower programs, and reduction of
artificial barriers in employment and promotion. The "massive" investment
in programs to meet the needs of the unemployed and underemployed sug-
gested by the Commission and required to bring about full equality in em-
ployment, however, has not yet been made.
24
THE KERNER COMMISSION REPORT AND EDUCATIONAL CHANGE
J. MYRON ATKIN
The Report of the National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders'^ pro-
posed several methods of improving the education of black children, par-
ticularly in urban areas. Specific suggestions included such plans as
increasing aid to school systems that are seeking to eliminate racial iso-
lation.
establishing "magnet schools" to attract children from several sections
of the community,
providing supplemental education centers with specialized facilities to
help )oungsters for a portion of the school day,
building educational parks to cluster existing schools,
expanding the teacher corps programs in ghetto areas,
providing year-round education for disadvantaged students,
bringing children to school at an earlier age than state law convention-
ally requires,
providing incentives for highly qualified teachers to teach in ghetto areas,
reducing size of classes,
providing intensive concentration on basic verbal skills,
improving community-school relations by such devices as using local resi-
dents as teacher aides and tutors,
improving higher education opportunities, and
providing more realistic vocational education.
The recommendations could be categorized within two key strategies:
First, we must foster racial integration in schools as the long-term priority
objective, as a matter of social policy. Racial isolation is detrimental, on its
face, for whites and blacks.
Second, the elimination of racial isolation is a difficult goal to achie\'e
in the short term. We must improve education of black children in w^hat-
ever schools we currently find them.
The Commission felt compelled to point out that,
We see no conflict between the integration and quality education strategies we
espouse. Commitment to the goal of integrated education can neither diminish the
' (New York: Bantam Books, 1968).
quality of today's segregated and unequal ghetto schools nor sanction the tragic
waste of human resources which they entail.
Far from being in conflict the strategies are complementary. The aim of quality
education is to compensate for and overcome the environmental handicaps of dis-
advantaged children. The evidence indicates that integration, in itself, does not
wholly achieve this purpose.^
In the letter inviting me to prepare a paper for this meeting, it was
stated that, "One gets the feeling . . . that the recommendations (of the
Commission) have been largely ignored and that the racial situation is
worsening. If this is the case, why is it happening? What are the obstacles
to change? Can anything feasible be done to change the situation?" In
my view, the premise of this Assembly, to the extent that it is reflected by
these assertions and questions, is accurate. The racial situation does seem
to be worsening.
Nevertheless, it is not clear to this participant that an examination of the
possible obstacles, field by field, necessarily or directly leads to alleviation of
the problems. As a matter of fact, highly technical analyses of the racial
difficulties we face in the United States could lead, albeit unintentionally,
to evasion of the moral responsibilities we face as a nation.
The Kerner Commission Report is a moral indictment as well as a social
analysis. While the analysis must continue, it must supplement, and not
supplant, the moral fervor of our efforts to eliminate racism and its eflfects.
Value questions that underlie our social policy formulations must not be
submerged entirely beneath dispassionate inquiry into our problems. Rather,
reaffirmations of national purpose and value commitments must move apace
with scholarly analysis.
Furthermore, intensive examination of a single field ■ — such as education,
or employment, or housing, or welfare — easily leads reasonable people to
think that progress is virtually impossible to attain because racial problems
are so pervasive in the society. An individual interested in employTnent looks
at the educational and housing scenes, and he begins to wonder if the im-
provement of employment opportunities alone will alleviate the problem
appreciably. A man studying our welfare policies can easily fall into the
position of fatalistic acceptance of inadequacies in the present system because
welfare problems, of course, have manifestations in housing, employment,
education, and administration of justice. And the educationist may be quite
tempted to say that the schools can do little indeed in the absence of rather
wholesale changes in other elements of the society.
In the field of education, there exists abundant rationale supporting argu-
ments for minimal change, both with respect to compensatoiy education and
also with respect to integration. Compensator)' education programs of one kind
' Ibid., p. 439.
26
and another, from the Banneker Project in St. Louis, to the Higher Horizons
Program in New York City, to the Madison Area Project in Syracuse, have all
demonstrated limited ability to improve the achievement levels of black chil-
dren, as the U. S. Commission on Civil Rights report. Racial Isolation in the
Public Schools,^ has already indicated. Compensatory education programs at
the preschool level, on the other hand, have succeeded in eflfecting sharp im-
provements in achievement; but the studies so far reveal that the initial
gains are soon lost, not only in situations wherein black children later attend
racially isolated classes, but also in schools where they attend integrated classes.
Further, compensatory education programs are costly. The "successful" pre-
school programs cost between $1,000 and $1,500 per child per year. We
currently spend, nationally, an average of $450 per child per )ear. An in-
evitable question arises: If we are willing to increase our investment dramati-
cally in social programs — the kind of additional investment represented by a
doubling or tripling of our allotments for education — shouldn't we consider
methods of spending these monies alternative to those in the educational sys-
tem alone? Income guarantees, for example. Or creating new jobs.
But a prior question is unavoidable if we focus major effort on compensa-
tor)' programs. If we are committed to improving the achievement level of
black children, primarily in black communities, can we ever create a political
atmosphere in which whites will be willing to appropriate two and three times
as much money for the education of black children as for their own? Such
a possibility seems highly unlikely, however much certain elements of our
population may want to preserve a segregated pattern. It is doubtful whether
they will allow such a disparate investment. Compensatory education alone
doesn't seem to hold much promise for a large-scale solution to improvement
of black education, given the political realities of present-day America.
Yet the evidence for improvement of achievement by integrating schools
is not very encouraging either, mainly because many plans for desegregation
of schools do not eliminate segregation in classes. In many cases, even \vhen
the racial composition of the entire school is mixed, examination reveals that
the blacks by and large are in separate tracks. In such situations, the evidence
indicates that their achievement is no different from what it would be if they
attended separate schools.
Our research seems to indicate that integration of classes seems to be the
most effective educational method for improving achievement of black chil-
dren. Though the evidence of this point isn't overwhelming, and some recent
studies raise disturbing questions, such a plan is likely to be successful for
blacks while preserving high achievement for whites. A few medium-sized
cities, such as Champaign, Illinois, and Syracuse, New York, have experi-
' Superintendent of Documents (Washington, D.G.: U.S. Government Printing
Office), 1967.
mented with such a method of eliminating racial isolation. Results so far seem
favorable.
But in larger cities, major innovative political arrangements are required
to achieve racial integration at the level of the individual class. Open enroll-
ment, a system wherein people can choose the school they wish to go to, doesn't
seem to work, possibly because of the large proportion of Negro children in
central city school systems. Cooperative arrangements between urban and
suburban schools seem promising, but such systems have not been tried on an
appreciable scale because of the political realignments that are required.
This observer, then, doubts that large-scale improvements of educational
achievement are possible through compensatory education programs alone,
and tends therefore to reject that particular recommendation of the Kerner
Commission Report as feasible national policy. Perhaps one obstacle to the
adoption of this particular recommendation results from similar skepticism
by those individuals who are uncertain about long-term benefits and who also
question the likelihood of such disproportionate financial support for black
schools. Even if we were willing to spend three times as much for the educa-
tion of black children as for white children, compensatory programs seem to
have practically no effect after preschool ; and even when applied at the pre-
school level, the benefits seem to wash out in ordinary programs of schooling.
These statements are based on the evidence at hand about results of com-
pensatory education programs. These programs have usually been carried
out without major attention to other types of social change, or even to per-
vasive change at all levels of schooling. If coordinated programs to improve
the socioeconomic levels in ghetto areas were combined with compensatory
education efforts, the results might be quite different. I suspect they would be.
It seems highly unlikely that we shall redistribute educational resources to
compensate dramatically for the effects of past societal depravations. At the
same time, it is not quite so unlikely that we may be willing to allocate a
greater share of our national investment in human resources to improvement
of educational programs. The most acceptable plans for the improvement of
education of black children, those with highest possibility of acceptance by
the public, must include major attention to improvement of education for
whites as well. This fact, plus persuasive moral considerations, seems to argue
for desegregation, for the elimination of racial isolation, as the most effective
method of eliminating educational disparities between the races.
It has become clear that a large segment of our population — white,
ignored, and angry — is disturbed increasingly by what they see as major
attempts to redress imbalances in favor of blacks, amidst a climate in which
blacks, as well as some whites, are becoming ever more strident in their de-
mands. Stridency breeds antagonism. Angry whites are uniting in opposition
to improvement of social programs that focus exclusively on blacks.
If our educational programs for whites were today all that they should
be, perhaps there would be less objection to disproportionate allocation of re-
sources for the improvement of black education. But of course our educational
system must be improved for both races. If in our determinations of social
policy, we demonstrate an appropriate (and large) degree of concern for
whites, then we will also have greater success with new programs that may
focus primarily on blacks.
This background argues for total examination of the educational system;
it argues for the formulation of general educational goals for all. If whites
begin to see how the educational system is being changed to meet the needs of
their own children, they may be quite willing to work for improvement of
black education in the process, and they may even be willing to invest in
programs that attempt to redress past inequities.
I shall use the remainder of my remarks to highlight a somewhat dif-
ferent potentially divisive element in our attention to the improvement of ed-
ucation for black children. It is appealing to focus on schools in righting social
wrongs. Schooling is a traditional means by which we have attempted to
translate social policy into actual improvement of the quality of life. But there
is a strong temptation to think that more schooling, as well as more efficient
schooling, can eliminate some of the variability between blacks and whites in
educational achievement. If this assumption is accepted without examination,
it is seductive to conclude that we need to increase the dominion of formal
schooling over the lives of black children. We may put them in schools during
the summer, on Saturdays, or in the late afternoons. And to the extent that
we move directly to improve achievement, and consequently present the dis-
advantaged child with highly structured, elaborately sequenced programs to
improve competencies in subjects such as reading and mathematics, we risk
highlighting a particularly formal, tightly programmed type of education that
could well accent a mechanical approach to learning which children may
eventually see as dehumanizing and insufficiently personal.
While some social policy formulators are advocating rigorous teaching
methods in the formal skills for disadvantaged children, they are tending to
enroll their owoi youngsters in schools that are more open, more permissive,
and that tend to give increasing emphasis to the arts and the humanities.
Many observers are beginning to view schooling in the United States as ex-
cessively preordered and sequenced. They see the growth of a factory model
for education in the United States, in which "productivity" is analyzed in
terms of prespecified changes in human behavior. Americans tend to assume
that the development of an educated person is something like the development
of a rocket or an automobile. We indicate in perfoiTnance terms what is ex-
pected as a "terminal objective." Then we develop sophisticated, well-engi-
neered approaches to assure efficient production.
Many middle-class parents are beginning to demand a more expressive
element in the education of their children. And the students are demanding
it themselves. There is considerably more focus these days on the quality of
our lives and on the aesthetic and value dimensions of our existence. These
pressures are just beginning to build up; they may have a strong influence on
schools during the early 1970's. Art programs probably will be more promi-
nent in our schools during the coming years; the humanities will be stressed;
environmental quality policy questions will begin to be reflected more in
secondary as well as elementary school programs. But if present trends con-
tinue, these developments in middle-class schools will be strongly at variance
with present trends in education of black children to be ever more disciplined,
ever more focused on discrete achievement questions in subjects such as read-
ing, writing, and arithmetic. We may have to face a major ideological ques-
tion: Do we want a system that emphasizes one set of goals for one race
while espousing a different set for another?
It is possible that black children subjected to heavy doses of formal skill
preparation and for longer hours will begin to view schooling in the same
repressive sense that some of our middle-class children have begun to see it
in recent years at the college and high school levels.
To implement the spirit of the Kemer Commission recommendations, we
might do well to introduce greater diversity in our approaches to education
and also in the variety of personnel involved in work with young people, both
in the school and out. It is clear that we have not made the progress that is
desirable in improving race relations. We are not even sure what is possible.
We need to try new programs, instead of solely riveting resources on one or
two educational schemes that seem appealing.
Some innovations will be developed within the profession, but we surely
need fresh insights from a variety of groups. Professionals in the schools are
beginning to learn to work with the nonprofessionals. We are learning, in
many fields, that a narrow, protectionist view of existing practice may be un-
desirably conservative. When we reach the day when school administrators
and teachers work as comfortably with all their constituencies as they presently
work with the PTA, then we shall begin to take steps that improve the edu-
cation of all children : black and white. If we focus our programs for educa-
tional improvement on both races, we may stand the best chance of improving
it for either race.
WELFARE RECOMMENDATIONS OF THE NATIONAL ADVISORY COMMISSION
ON CIVIL DISORDERS AND ADC IN ILLINOIS
MERLIN TABER
Welfare and Civil Disorder
The welfare system — public assistance — seems not a prime cause of
riots. Welfare was lowest on a list of grievances from a Commission survey
of twenty riot cities. Another study of forty-nine cities indicated that level
of welfare was not correlated with occurrence of violence. Police practices,
jobs, and housing are more often cited by both ghetto residents and experts
as "causes."
Yet the black ghetto way of life is centrally supported by welfare, par-
ticularly ADC (Aid to Families with Dependent Children). The Kemer
Commission included the welfare system in their analysis because the cycle of
poverty, despair, and dependency cannot be broken up without an adequate
and rational welfare system. An effective welfare system is not by itself suffi-
cient, but it is no doubt a necessary' condition for achieving the "integration"
asked by the Commission — or even for achieving racial peace.
Among welfare programs, only ADC will be discussed here. ADC is but
one- third of all United States assistance costs; however, ADC is most im-
portant to ghetto families, it is growing most rapidly, and it is most
controversial.
Basic questions about ADC were raised by the Commission. Can ADC
or some other family income program become an effective means for support-
ing parents without income to adequately rear their children? Can it be a
constructive experience for its recipients rather than destructive? Can it
contribute to the "integration" policy recommended by the Commission?
Welfare Recommendations
Three welfare recommendations were made by the Commission : R&D,
as a "first strategy"; overhaul, as the "most important"; and security, as a
"longer-range goal."
The Commission recommended first, research and experiment to learn
how income maintenance programs affect families. Social insurance and
assistance involve $60 billion per year, yet money for "research and develop-
ment" in these programs is not a tenth of 1 per cent of their cost.
The overhaul asked by the Commission was a stopgap but still crucial
effort to eliminate the worst inequities, and to make ADC more adequate and
humane.
The longer-range strategy of the Commission was a national income floor at
an adequate level for those who work for low pay as well as those without
income.
ADC in Illinois: An Overview
Total costs of ADC in Illinois have grown by one-half during the two years
since the Kerner study, and now exceed a quarter of a billion dollars per
year. The share of costs paid by the state has increased by two-thirds in the
same two years. It appears that Illinois will be paying about $160 million of
a total cost of $300 million for ADC in fiscal year 1970.
In numbers of people receiving aid, ADC has grown about one-third
during the same two years, from 280,000 to 370,000. One Illinois child in
every fifteen lives in an ADC family.
ADC in Illinois, as elsewhere, is disproportionately black and urban; 10
per cent of all Illinois citizens are black — but 70 per cent of its 370,000
citizens on ADC are black. Cook County with 50 per cent of the state's popu-
lation has 70 per cent of the ADC population.
ADC families, of course, represent a concentration of problems in addition
to poverty. Nine of each ten ADC families in Illinois are headed by a woman,
with no father in the home. His absence is usually due to divorce or desertion.
ADC mothers have less than average experience with emplo)-ment and formal
education.
ADC in Illinois is administered with other federally-aided programs by
some four and one-half thousand employees of the Department of Public
Aid, in county and district offices. The cost of administration is about 15
per cent of the cost of direct aid payments. Since 1962, states have been
required to plan for social services in ADC, as well as legal determination of
eligibility. Illinois has made such plans, but a numbei of factors militate
against effective services by ADC workers.
Continued controversy over the ADC program is easy to understand. To
the legislator it represents spiraling costs for an unpopular program — the
last straw for an overburdened state budget. To the taxpayer, ADC seems
an endless payout with no visible benefits and even seems to some a "subsidy
of immorality." To the ADC mother, it represents existence but litde else.
She typically lives in a "project" or other low-cost area where all community
services — schools, police protection, stores, sanitation, social welfare, and
recreation — are poor or nonexistent. Her experience with ADC is like her
experience with schools, police, and merchants.
In the following analysis, ADC is viewed as objectively as possible, in the
teiTns laid down by the Kerner Commission Report.
32
ADC in Illinois in Relation to Commission Recommendations
Illinois is within striking distance of the "overhaul" or "most urgent"
recommendations of the Commission. At the same time, a new ADC crisis
appears likely. Therefore, we believe that attention should be directed to
President Nixon's Family Assistance Plan and other proposals for a national
program of family income maintenance. These observations are the opinion
of the authors based on the factual review in the following pages. More
specifically our conclusions are :
1. A First Strategy — Research and Experiment. A state appropriation of
$3,300,000 for research in welfare and human resources has been made. New
programs will be tested in selected areas, and also more basic research will be
supported. If properly evaluated, this program would put Illinois ahead of
most states in welfare research and development. Model Cities programs in
Illinois offer another framework for experiment, but so far Model Cities
planning has been limited to coordination of existing programs and some use
of service centers and indigenous workers — the "integrated programs" of
adequate income and services as recommended by the Commission are said to
be too expensive.
2. Most Urgent ■ — • Overhaul. Illinois, like most northern industrial states
and California, is far ahead of southeastern states and already approaches the
"overhaul" recommendations. Many detailed recommendations, to make
ADC more adequate and less degrading to recipients, are reviewed below.
Specific actions which would bring Illinois fully to the recommended levels are
listed on pages 40-41.
3. A Longer-Range Strategy — National Income Security. Several factors
appear to make a new ADC crisis likely in Illinois. Political and fiscal reality
therefore suggest that it is time to consider a national income maintenance
program. Impact of any proposed plan for Illinois should be examined, we
believe, on three key questions.
a. Will the plan provide relief to the state budget?
b. Will administrative complexity be reduced?
c. Will the needs of the most deprived families in Illinois be better
satisfied?
This review (pages 34 to 40) indicates that the Administration Welfare
Bill presently before Congress does not offer substantial benefits for Illinois in
terms of the state budget or in terms of administration. Also, there is a basic
question about level of adequacy for deprived families. Since families would
still be maintained below the poverty level, parents would not be much helped
in their own efforts to break out of the cycle of poverty and frustration so
graphically described by the Commission.
"A First Strategy" — Research and Experiment. Governor Ogilvie's
budget includes $3,300,000 for research and demonstration in state human
33
resources programs. Plans being developed in the Bureau of the Budget call
for testing of decentralized comprehensive administration of state human
services, for testing of separation of service from eligibility determination, for
development of adequate information systems, and for support of basic re-
search. An institute would be set up, independent of operating departments
at the state level, to administer these studies and experiments.
The Commission called for urban demonstrations of integrated programs
of aid and job training, under the Model Cities umbrella. None are planned
in Illinois — field experiments in pa)-ment of adequate income, combined
with adequate services for education and job training, exist in Gar\- and
Seattle.
Model Cities planning in Illinois includes, as far as we can determine.
"outposts" for deliver)' of services to poor areas; better information exchange
among public aid and other programs; and the use of welfare aides recruited
among residents of Model Cities areas. These ideas are not new, but neither
are they costly. A representative of Model Cities in the Chicago regional
office said that the four Model Cities directors in Illinois believe that im-
proved welfare requires more money through legislative action and so is
beyond their scope of planning.
Overhaul of the Existing Categorical System. The Commission asked for
a national minimum income standard for individuals and families enrolled
in ADC to be effective in all states, and went on to recommend that the
standard be at least as high as the poverty line defined by the Social Security
Administration. That poverty line \vas $3,553 in 1968 and ^vould be some-
what higher now.
The Illinois maximum budget standard for a family of four is presently
$3,339 per year, between 5 and 10 per cent under the poverty line. If current
earned income of about $2 million per month is added to total assistance
pa)-ments, it is indicated that the topical ADC family of four in Illinois dees
have $3,100 to $3,300 per year to live on.
The table below shows that assistance per person has increased one quarter
in the past two years, so that Illinois more nearly approaches the Commission
recommendations than it did two years ago.
The poverty line budget is based on the assumption that parents are good
financial managers, and that both business and community facilities are
adequate so that they can do a good job of rearing children ^vith minimal
income.
Since these assumptions are known to be false for most ADC families,
many groups have argued that the poverty line is not an adequate le\el of
income to permit families to break out of the "prison of povert)'."
Recognizing that state and local governments have more restricted tax
bases than the federal government, find it more difficult to respond to ad-
TABLE 4. ADC IN ILLINOIS — BUDGET STANDARDS AND ACTUAL ASSISTANCE,
1967-69 CHANGE
(Includes ADC-UP; includes medical payments)
Item
June, 1967
June, 1969
Two-year
increase
Illinois budget standard — ■
family of four
Actual cases
Persons
Assistance
Assistance per case
Assistance per person
S 3,168.00
54,572.00
256,197.00
12,740,573.00
233.46
49.73
$ 3,339.00
76,030.00
334,133.00
21,180,896.00
278.59
63.39
5%
39
30
65
19
27
verse economic conditions, and are overburdened by current urban problems
in particular, the Commission recommended that most welfare costs should
be paid by the federal government.
In Illinois at present, the federal government pays one-half the cost of
ADC. In poorer states, the federal share may be three-fourths or even higher.
Change in the federal share in Illinois for the two years since the Kerner
Report has actually been opposite to the Commission recommendations. If the
third quarter of 1967 is compared with the third quarter of 1969, the federal
share has declined from 61 per cent to 47 per cent.
If the Commission recommendation is interpreted as meaning, say, 90
per cent federal funding, then the estimated state costs for ADC during the
current fiscal year would be reduced from about $160 million to $30 million.
The Commission recommended that "The share of costs presently imposed
on municipal governments should be removed . . ." ; that ADC-UP "be made
permanent and mandatory on all states"; and that "The new federal defini-
tion of 'unemployment' be broadened."
In Illinois, municipal governments do not pay toward ADC costs.
Illinois, like other leading industrial states, has extended ADC to unem-
ployed parents. Many other states have not. In Illinois, currently about 4
per cent of the total state ADC caseload are ADC-U. In the same year that
the Commission Report was released, ADC-U was authorized on a con-
tinuing basis by Congress, but it was not made mandatory for each state.
In 1967, the definition of unemployment in Illinois was: less than forty
hours OR what is considered normal for the job. The 1969 definition of un-
employment is: less than thirty- five hours OR what is considered normal
for the job.
The present definition of unemployment in Illinois makes it possible for
families with men not working full time to receive some assistance. There is
no provision, however, for underemployed families.
35
The Commission recommended that earnings retention "should be raised
substantially to maximize incentive to work." Both public aid policy and the
actual experience of ADC families in Illinois has moved in the direction
recommended by the Commission.
In 1967 in Illinois, the exemption of earnings was the first $25 per month
plus expenses. In July, 1969, the earnings exemption was raised to the first
$30 of earned income plus one-third the remainder of gross income. In addi-
tion, cost of child care may be shown as part of the budgeted needs of the
family.
The table below shows that both earnings and the amount of earnings
kept by ADC families have increased substantially during the past year. Com-
parable figures were not available for 1967. If one can assume that it was the
increased exemption of earnings which stimulated more ADC parents to go
to work, then it would appear that the policy recommended by the Com-
mission has been a success in Illinois.
The earnings exemption proposed in the Administration Family Assistance
Plan is $60 per month, plus one-half the remainder.
Adults in ADC families have little formal education and little work ex-
perience but in general would prefer to be working for decent wages if possible.
The Commission noted these basic facts and recommended greater efforts at
education and job training for adults in ADC.
In Illinois, there are many activities around basic education and job
training for ADC adults and the situation is difficult to summarize.
The table below shows there are over 10,000 adults currently in education
or job training. About two-thirds of these adults are in literacy training or
high school or its equivalent, with the other one-third in some form of job
training. At present, about one ADC adult in each sixteen is involved in such
activity — less than the proportion two years ago.
The Illinois Department of Public Aid, under contract with the Depart-
ment of Public Instruction, finances 13 adult education centers. Basic literacy,
general educational development, and high school courses are offered, as
well as job training in clerical, sales, key punch, auto mechanic, and other
lines of work. There are four centers in Chicago, and nine downstate.
A work incentive program (WIN) was authorized by the 1967 Amend-
TABLE 5. EARNED INCOME IN ADC FAMILIES
Item June, 1968 June, 1969
Number of cases with income 5,700 8,860
Per cent of cases with income 9.3 11.6
Total earned income (rounded) $990,000 $1,920,000
Earned income exempted from budget
(retained by recipients) $120,000 $ 920,000
TABLE 6. ADULTS IN ADC FAMILIES IN EDUCATION OR JOB TRAINING
Item
August, 1967
August, 1 969
Total number
6,026
5,573
Percentage of all ADC adults
9
6
Number attending adult education
centers
4,840
3,421
Number in work incentive programs
888
Miscellaneous (number in MDTA;
DVR; night courses, etc.)
1,186
1,264
ment to the Social Security Act. The Department of Labor administers WIN
in coordination with HEW. A variety of services are offered to move aduhs
and young people from welfare families into employment. In Illinois, WIN is
effective in Cook County and six other counties.
In the miscellaneous category, public aid workers make referrals to the
Illinois State Employinent Service, the Manpower Development and Training
Office, the Division of Vocational Rehabilitation, and in addition may ar-
range for attendance at courses or job training on a case-by-case basis.
Assessment of progress in ADC and employment is difficult because of
persistent policy questions which have never been settled.
First, how can an integrated and coherent effort to\vard education and
employment be achieved? There is a patchwork of programs which are diffi-
cult to coordinate. Should these be under the Department of Public Aid or
some existing or new authority?
Second, how large an effort is required? The ADC program inherits the
deficiencies of the educational system, especially for black people, and the
deficiencies in emplo)Tnent opportunities. An adequate program of education
and employment would almost replicate the primar)' and secondaiy school
system and might have to create special emplovinent opportunities for this
group of adults.
Third, are there job opportunities in our present economy for people with
minimal skills and a p>oor educational background? If not, then something
more than limited training for specific jobs is needed.
Fourth, there is the basic question of the welfare of ADC children when
their mothers work. Presumably, the care and training of children is a de-
manding function in itself. Under what conditions should ADC mothers be
encouraged to work?
The Commission saw day care centers as being needed both to permit
mothers to work and to improve development opportunities for children.
In Illinois the expenses of day care for reasons of employment, education
and training of adults, or for other reasons, may be paid as part of the ADC
budget. In October, 1969, a total of about $400,000 was paid through ADC
to 5,914 families for such day care. Of this day care, 80 per cent was for
reasons of employment, and most of the rest was for education and training.
Comparisons are not possible over the past two-year period, since day care
expenses were not identified as a special item two years ago.
Even though day care may be included in ADC budgets, it is used by only
one family in twelve. Observers agree that there is a severe shortage of
adequate facilities. The reason seems to be a lack of federal or state leader-
ship in organizing day care facilities.
There are several efforts to stimulate the development of day care but
results are uneven. For example, the new federal Office of Child Development
has a bureau concerned with policies and standards for day care. As another
example, in fiscal 1969, the WIN program included several million dollars
nationally for day care for children of mothers in the WIN program. The
Illinois Department of Children and Family Services has a licensing and con-
trol responsibility and is assigning a few staff members to the day care area.
None of these efforts, so far, provide the necessary money or competent
leadership to establish and staff day care facilities in local areas.
The Kerner Commission Report states that its members ". . . strongly
disagree with compelling mothers of small children to work or else lose wel-
fare support." In Illinois, education, training, or employment is mandatory
for all adults in ADC families. This includes mothers with children below
school age if "suitable arrangements have or can be made for such care and
supervision during the hours of the day that the mother or other person is out
of the home because of employment, training, or education." Therefore, the
state's policy does conflict with the Commission recommendation.
As a reaction to growing ADC rolls Congress had proposed to freeze
amounts of federal matching funds to the proportion of children receiving
assistance in different states as of January 1, 1968. However, this freeze was
first postponed to July 1, 1969, and since then the beginning date has been
extended indefinitely. The Commission recommended that the freeze be
removed.
The Report also stated that the so-called "man-in-the-house" rule should
be eliminated. Currently in Illinois, if there is a man in the house and he is
unemployed or works part time, that family may be eligible for ADC-U, if
he is the father of at least one of the children.
The Commission recommended eliminating residence requirements for
new residents of states because of the resultant restriction on freedom of move-
ment to follow opportunity, or simply because of personal preference.
In 1967, Illinois had a residency requirement of one year. In February,
1968, residence requirement was declared unconstitutional in the U. S. District
Court of Cook County.
During the year ending September, 1969, 2,239 ADC cases were opened
38
with less than one year of residence. Proportionately more of the new cases
were downstate than in Cook County. Less than half came from the South.
Many came from states adjoining Illinois. In addition, there were new resi-
dents from the West Coast, from Puerto Rico, and from foreign countries.
No estimate of the impact of this new policy can be made, since data are
not available on out-migration nor on reasons for moving.
Concerning eligibility for ADC the Commission recommended that "Ap-
plicants should be able to establish initial eligibility by personal statements or
affidavits relating to their financial situation and family composition, subject
to subsequent review conducted in a manner that protects their dignity,
privacy, and constitutional rights." In 1969, the Department of HEW re-
quested all states not using a self-declaration of eligibility to conduct experi-
ments in such use.
In Illinois, self-declaration forms for eligibility determination are being
tested in Winnebago, Williamson, and Vermilion Counties, and in the north-
em district of Cook Count)'. The objectives are: (1) to reduce the waiting
time for recipients to get their decision. In the pilot projects, it takes about
one hour after the applicant comes in for him to get a decision as against
thirty days in the past. (2) To free public aid workers to give more time for
service. (3) To minimize the social stigma involved in applying for assistance.
(4) To reduce the volume of paper work required.
The results of the pilot projects have not yet been organized and reported.
It might be noted that the coordinator of one of the projects stated that in his
county, the project was successful in reducing waiting time for applicants to
get their decision and in minimizing the stigma of application. However, he
also stated that in his county, the volume of paperwork was not greatly less,
and workers did not have substantially more time for service since the forms
themselves are still complicated and require extensive processing in the office.
Finally, he stated that in that county, the accuracy of information obtained
was apparently as good as, or better than, under the present system.
The Report contained recommendations for "Centers to provide the full
complement of welfare services ... all welfare, social, rehabilitation, and
income assistance services," and for the expansion of family planning
programs.
As noted above, the $3,300,000 for research in the Public Aid appropria-
tion will pay for trials of integrated community-level administration of state
human services, in selected areas.
Illinois currently pays for all types of family planning services and devices.
Public Aid workers are instructed to discuss birth control with all women of
child-bearing age. In September, 1969, family planning was paid for in
6,623 families at a total cost of $39,317. In addition, other women attended
free public health clinics for family planning services.
39
The recommendations above have to do with making social services in
ADC more effective. This subject is important and requires additional
comment.
Many of society's problems are distilled into the ADC program, and ADC
families need skilled social ser\dces in addition to adequate income. However,
there are five obvious facts which work against effective sei^-ices in ADC.
First, the existing work force in Public Aid is barely enough for the de-
tailed legal accountability demanded of the program. In Illinois, there are
now four and one-half thousand employees of Public Aid in county and
district offices for direct administration of federally-aided assistance programs.
This number represents an increase of only 2 per cent over two years ago,
when the programs were much smaller.
Second, the pay and other amenities do not attract enough specially
qualified and specially trained persons as career opportunities.
Third, just as money for research and development in Public Aid has been
lacking, so has money for staff development and training been miniscule.
Fourth, administrative practices in Public Aid have always been geared to
detect and penalize illegal pa)Tnents, but not to detect and reward good
ser\dce.
Fifth, Public Aid legislation and policy have dictated a brittle relation-
ship between worker and recipient which does not lend itself to effective help-
ing. To date, it has been the exception rather than the rule that Public Aid
w'orkers become "advocates" of clients rather than "investigators."
For all these reasons, many observers have concluded that even with an
improved ADC program it would be better to separate social ser\ices com-
pletely from the administration of financial assistance.
Specific actions are needed for Illinois to reach the overhaul recommenda-
tions of the Commission. The following actions are specific and feasible steps,
most of them possible at the state level, which would more fully realize these
recommendations.
1. Increase ADC budget standard to poverty line. Illinois is 5 to 10 per
cent below the poverty line defined by federal agencies, and the poverty line
is of questionable adequacy for child-rearing. As an immediate and minimal
step, budgetary standards might be brought into line with the current po\-erty
line definition.
2. Increase federal sharing in the Administration welfare bill. The present
federal system of sharing in ADC costs has two undesirable effects. The
sharing formula tends to put a ceiling on payments, especially in poor states.
Second, the formula forces states like Illinois to bear all of the cost of more
adequate aid. As presently written, the Administration welfare bill presei-ves
these features.
Therefore, in the interest of the state, the congressional delegation from
Illinois might seek: (1) a higher family income floor in the Administration
bill and (2) revision of the cost-sharing fomiula to pay in each state a fixed
per cent of all family assistance costs.
3. Single state authority for education and job training. A single state
authority might be designated to have responsibility for manpower develop-
ment for unemployed and underemployed citizens.
4. Day care program development. Responsibility and money for develop-
ment of local day care facilities might be given to some one department.
5. Adoption of affidavit system. Use of the affidavit system (self-declara-
tion) appears to make assistance less demeaning to clients. It might be
adopted after its current trial unless serious problems are uncovered.
6. Improved social services. Separation of social service from eligibility
determination appears necessary to achieve effective service. Effectiveness also
would seem to require definition of career lines, administrative controls, and
training programs oriented to service.
A Longer-Range Strategy ^ National Income Security
The Commission set down three guides which suggest supplements to the
working poor, a minimum standard offering hope, and simplified eligibility
based on need alone. They read as follows :
To provide for those who can work or who do work, any necessary supplements in
such a way as to develop incentives for fuller employment.
To provide for those who cannot work and for mothers, who decide to remain
with their children, a minimum standard of decent living to prevent deprivation
and aid in saving children from the prison of poverty which has held their parents.
... all present restrictions on eligibility — other than need — would be eliminated.
The Administration bill (H.R. 14173, S. 2986) would set a new national
policy for each of the three main guides suggested by the Commission. The
implications for Illinois of these three features — coverage of working poor,
family income floor, and simplified administration — are outlined below.
Coverage of families of working poor. Under the Administration bill, a
man supporting a wife and two children could earn up to $3,920 per year and
still receive some pa)inent. National reports indicate there are more children
in poverty whose fathers work all year, than there are children now covered
by ADC. In 1966, there were 1.5 million families in poverty which were
headed by a man under sixty-five who worked all year (the poverty line in
1966 for a nonfarm family of four was $3,335) . There were 4.5 million chil-
dren in such families, as against 3.5 million in ADC families at that time.
These bits of infoiTnation do not permit estimates of the impact in Illinois.
However, it is clear that family assistance payments for the first time would
be available to many families where parents work for low wages.
Family income floor. The Administration bill provides a minimum pay-
ment based on family size and requires states to supplement these payments
to present ADC le\'els in each state, for those groups of families now covered
by ADC. In short, a national floor is provided, but the present state variations
in ADC are frozen into the program.
For southern states, the proposed floors ($1,000 per year for two, $1,600
for four) are up to three times present ADC levels. In addition, many
thousand additional families will be covered, not now eligible for ADC.
For northern states such as Illinois, the floor is a little over half that now
provided by ADC. Under the proposed plan, income for families no\v on
ADC would apparently remain the same.
Simplified administration. The Administration bill would largely eliminate
eligibility requirements other than need, as the Commission recommended,
for the basic family assistance payments. However, the bill requires state sup-
plementation up to present ADC levels. The bill permits integrated adminis-
tration of federal family assistance with state supplements, by either the
federal government or the state government, as negotiated with each state.
This requirement appears to perpetuate much of the machinery and paper-
work presently required for ADC, at either the state or federal level.
Therefore, one cannot predict whether, or how much, administration
would be simplified for Illinois, since that would depend on the state plan
to be developed and negotiated with the federal government.
The impact of the bill on the Illinois state budget, and on poor families
in Illinois, should also be considered.
Will the plan provide relief to the state budget? The federal share of pay-
ments to those families now on ADC would apparently increase by 10 to 20
per cent. If the bill has the efTect of reaching more such families, then this
gain for the state budget may be offset by greater numbers receiving benefits.
Migration of poor families to the North would hopefully be slo\ved.
Lowered immigration is dubious, however; there is not empirical evidence
that ADC family heads came to Illinois for welfare.
The fixed dollar levels stipulated in the bill may be eroded by inflation.
The state would apparently hav^e to bear the cost of increased supplementa-
tion, since the federal share is fixed at July, 1969, budget standai'ds of the
state.
In the short run then, state costs would apparently remain at about
present levels, or decline slightly. The bill provides a leveling off but not re-
lief to the state budget.
Will the needs of the most deprived people in Illinois be better satisfied?
There is a clear gain in coverage of families headed by working poor. How-
ever, state supplementation would not be required for this group and their
incomes could be lower than the incomes of families without earnings. The
incentive for the underemployed father to be unemployed or to desert would
apparently be maintained.
42
In the area of social services around employment, there is a gain. The
bill authorizes federal payment of 90 per cent of the costs of "manpower
services, training, employment, and child care and related services" connected
with employment.
For middle-aged men and women who are not disabled but still cannot
earn, there is no gain — the bill limits payments to households where there
are at least two related persons, one a child.
For the family now receiving ADC, the bill would seem to freeze present
payment levels. Since families would still be maintained in poverty, parents
would not seem to be much helped in their own efforts to break out of the
cycle of poverty and frustration, so graphically described by the Commission.
The national income floor of $1,600 for a family of four may be compared
with levels defined by other groups, for various purposes :
Administration Family Assistance Plan $ 1,600
Budget standard, "average" family of four,
Illinois Department of Public Aid, 1969 3,340
Poverty Line Budget, non-farm family, Social
Security Administration, 1968 ( "Near poverty" budget
of SSA is about one-third higher. ) 3,553
City Family Budget, Department of Labor, Bureau of
Labor Statistics, 1969:
"Higher Level" (homeownership, purchase of
recreation and other services, automobile,
complete household equipment, and taxes) 13,050
"Moderate Level" 9,076
"Lower Level" (high proportion for necessities,
home rental, provide own services, free recreation) 5,915
President's Commission on Income Maintenance; Ben Heineman,
Chairman (recommended national income floor) 2,400
National Welfare Rights Organization; an organization of welfare
recipients (recommended national income guarantee) 5,500
Public Aid Advisory Committee, Cook County, Joseph L. Block,
Chairman (in a Critique of the Administration Bill, 12-5-69) 3,335
White House Conference on Food, Nutrition, and Health,
12/4/69 (recommended national income floor, adopted
by delegates) 5,500
RESPONSES TO THE KERNER REPORT HOUSING RECOMMENDATIONS
MICHAEL MURRAY
Introduction
Since 1685 when the civic leaders of Boston went around closing up caves,
there has been a government response to the housing situation. Over the
years, of course, official methods of dealing with the housing problem have
become more politic. Today, for example, governments typically issue mas-
sive detailed reports,^ which rationalize complex programs, which in turn are
facilitated by sophisticated delivery systems. But to what avail? These elabo-
rate programmed responses have hardly been more effective than earlier
primitive methods. As the Kerner Report noted, after more than three
decades of housing programs, for many "the goal of a decent home and suit-
able environment is as far distant as ever."^
The question is "Why?" Why is it that government has been unable to
deal effectively with the problem of inadequate housing? Are more effective
responses forthcoming? Does the issuance of the Kerner Report indicate a
more meaningful response to the problem? Or to paraphrase Kenneth Clark,
does the Report represent the same old movie being shown again?
These are difficult questions to answer. Nonetheless, an analysis of the
response to the Kerner Report might provide some insights. The purpose of
this paper is to examine the extent to which the Commission's housing
recommendations have been implemented. Hopefully, in accordance with
the theme of the Assembly, the analysis will give some indication of progress
in the housing field.
The paper is divided into three parts. Part I summarizes the Commission's
analysis of the housing problems and reviews key findings. Part II outlines
the Commission's 10 housing recommendations and surveys the extent to
which they have been implemented. In Part III there is an evaluation of the
Report with suggestions for future directions in dealing with the housing
problem.
^ To date, in the housing field, there have been three such reports issued by:
(1) The Civil Disorders Commission {Kerner Report); (2) The National Commis-
sion on Urban Problems (Douglas Commission) ; and (3) The President's Committee
on Urban Housing (Kaiser Committee).
"^Report of the National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders (New York:
Bantam Books, 1968), p. 467. Hereafter cited as Report.
45
lission Analysis, Findings and Strategies
In compelling language the Commission recognized and described the
linkage between inadequate housing and civil disorder. In effect, the Com-
mission admitted that inadequate housing was a serious political problem
and in this significant sense its analysis differed from previous analyses.
Previously, for example, housing was not considered to be a problem,
much less a governmental or political problem. To be sure there were slums;
but for many, slums were not necessarily viewed as an undesirable phenomenon,
i.e., as a problem. On the contrary; for many, slums were viewed as a part of
the "dynamics of progress," a "way station on the road up." According to
this view slums were proof of the mobility process and in this sense were not
considered a "problem."^ It is hardly surprising, in this context, that for
years government did little to redress the matter of inadequate and indecent
housing.
More recently, perhaps since the passage of the National Housing Act in
1934, inadequate housing has been viewed as a governmental problem. How-
ever, the housing problem typically has been associated with certain physical
shortcomings, such as ugly buildings, unsanitary conditions, and general over-
crowding. In accordance with this definition of the problem as a physical
kind of condition, the characteristic governmental response was physically to
remove the building or to rehabilitate an area. Obviously such programs as
urban renewal were designed, not to eliminate the conditions which caused
inadequate housing, but only to deal with the physical manifestation of the
underlying conditions. The point is that programs based upon a defective
problem analysis were doomed to failure. But at least inadequate housing
was recognized officially as a governmental problem. This was the necessary
first step.
With the issuance of the Kerner Report, the governmental response to
inadequate housing has entered what might be viewed as the second phase.
With regard to housing, the Commission's central finding was that
In nearly every disorder city . . . grievances related to housing were important
factors in the structure of Negro discontent.*
In short, the Commission said that, in part, inadequate housing conditions
had caused recent civil disorders. The housing problem, by this analysis, was
a political problem which logically required a political response.
Clearly the Commission added a new dimension to the analysis of the
^ See Alan Haber, Report to the Office of Economic Opportunity Demonstration
Section: The Community Organization Approach to Anti-Poverty Action (Ann
Arbor: University of Michigan), 1967, p. 353.
■' Report, p. 473.
46
housing problem. Whether the Commission proposed a more effective or even
a different response to this problem analysis is another question.
Having established that inadequate housing represented one of the deepest
grievances of the Negro community,^ the Commission suggested two "basic
strategies" for dealing with the situation. These strategies derived from the
finding that two major factors, widespread poverty and racial discrimination
in the housing market, sustained inadequate housing conditions and intoler-
able grievances.'' In accordance with these dual findings, the Commission
proposed :
1. That the supply of housing suitable for low-income families should be
expanded on a massive basis.
2. That areas outside of ghetto neighborhoods should be opened up to
occupancy by racial minorities.^
To implement these "strategies" — and as a way of responding to the
analysis of the housing problem — the Commission proposed 10 key programs.
The following section will outline the nature of these 10 programs and will
survey, point by point, the extent to Avhich they have been implemented,
especially in Illinois.
Part II
The Question of Implementation: Illinois Response to the Kerner
Commission Recommendations
As an overall goal the Commission first recommended provision of
600,000 low- and moderate-income housing units next year, and 6 million
units over the next five years. This proposal was a clear recognition of both
the dimensions of the housing problem and the unprecedented national effort
which would be necessaiy to meet widespread housing needs. As a major
objective then, the degree to which this proposal has been implemented pro-
vides a rough measure of the impact of the Report in general. Unfortunately
this proposal has not significantly been implemented at either the national
or the state level.
Although no exact figures are available at the national level, HUD officials
estimated that a maximum of 233,000 subsidized units could be constructed in
fiscal 1969.^ This estimate was based upon receipt of maximum appropriation
requests. Given the recent substantial cutbacks in housing funding in general,
it is doubtful that even this "less than half" maximum will be realized. Evi-
° According to the Commission's "grievance"-scaling system, inadequate housing
ranked at the first level of intensity behind police practices and unemployment.
Report, p. 143.
^Report, p. 473.
' Report, p. 474.
^ One Year Later (Washington D. C: The Urban Coalition, 1969), p. 51.
dence from the state level indicates that achievements in low-cost housing
construction are less than impressive.
In Illinois for example, on a proportionate basis (with approximately
l/20th of the total national population) no fewer than 30,000 new low-
income units should have been constructed. This is a minimum figure, as it
is deduced without regard to the special housing needs which exist in a
highly urbanized, industrial state. Nevertheless, even this 30,000 minimum
has not been reached. Since the issuance of the Commission's recommenda-
tions, only 3,832 low-rent housing units have been constructed in Illinois in
1968.'' While this figure represents a 21 per cent increase over the number
of units added during 1967 (further stressing the scope of the need for low-
income housing in Illinois), the 21 per cent growth rate has "enabled Illi-
nois to maintain the position as second" in provision of low-income units. ^°
The point is that other states are doing no better.
It should be noted that although these levels of implementation are hardly
impressive, the provision of more units represented only the first of ten Com-
mission proposals. While the remaining nine recommendations also can be
viewed as a way of providing more units, for purposes of analysis, these other
proposals can be discussed as separate programs. This is to suggest that the
question of implementation can be measured in greater detail by an exami-
nation of these other programs.
For example, the second recommendation called for an expanded and
modified below-market interest rate program. With focus on the private sec-
tor, the idea was to make long-term, low-interest financing available to non-
profit and limited-profit sponsors. The Commission viewed this mechanism as
the best one currently available "for engaging private enterprise in the task of
providing moderate and lower-income housing. "^^
At the national level, under the 1968 Housing Act, section 236 estab-
lished an assistance program whereby limited-profit, nonprofit, or cooperative
housing sponsors can receive FHA-insured mortgage financing for as low
as 1 per cent interest rate for up to 40 years. Section 236 replaces the familiar
221 (d) (3) provision \vhich had set interest rates at 3 per cent but which
is no longer being funded. Whereas 221 (d) (3) set a rather high upper-
income level of eligibility, section 236 gives preference to lower-income fami-
lies. Moreover, under the new section 235 (j) in the 1968 act, and under
the 1966 221 (h) pi'ovision amended in 1968, financed interest rates can go
as low as 1 per cent. Generally, under any of these procedures the govern-
ment makes up the difference between the market interest rate and the
amount of interest which tenants, in effect, pay through their rentals. Al-
^ Report of the State Housing Board to the Governor, "Highlights of 1968 and
Observations" (Chicago, Illinois: Illinois State Housing Board, 1969), p. 1.
'°Ibid., p. 1.
" Report, p. 476.
though these technical statutoiy changes have been made, HUD officials
hesitate to evaluate the effectiveness of the changes due to the general con-
dition of "tight money." That is, even modest mortgage rates are relatively
severe under the current tight-money situation. ^^
In Illinois, according to recent statutor)' changes, the Illinois Housing
Development Authority (IHDA), which was established in 1967, may make
noninterest-bearing advances to nonprofit corporations for constructing or
rehabilitating housing. Again, however, there is a serious limitation in that
IHDA can make no advances unless permanent mortgaging is ensured by
state or federal money. ^^ The State Housing Board also is active in generat-
ing private sector construction and rehabilitation. According to the Board's
1968 report, more than V2 million dollars was granted to two not-for-profit
corporations in order to foster the construction of moderate as well as low-
income housing. Although this allocation is innovative in the sense that some
money goes to neighborhood corporations (in East St. Louis) , in view of the
scope of the housing problem, the amount disbursed is modest at best.^*
Again, at the state level, it is safe to conclude that generation of private
sector money and productivity has not been especially effective with regard
to low-income units.
The same conclusion might be drawn with respect to the Commission's
third recommendation which called for an expanded and modified rent sup-
plement program, and an ownership supplement program. According to the
Commission, the rent supplement program represented a highly flexible tool
for subsidizing housing costs "because it permits adjustment of the subsidy
according to the income of the tenant."^' Although the concept clearly has
theoretical merits, there has been mixed progress in meeting the criteria sug-
gested by the Commission. First, rigid architectural standards have not been
relaxed to make unit cost standards easier to meet.^® As a second matter,
some legislative changes have been effected. For example, the statutory limi-
tation of rent supplements to new or newly rehabilitated housing has been
removed. As a third matter, the rent supplement concept has been extended
to provide home owoiership for low-income families. As the Urban Coalition
reports :
^' See an excellent summary of the program in Guide to Federal Low- and Mod-
erate-Income Housing and Development Programs (Washington, D. C: The Urban
Coalition), 1968.
'"^ Illinois Revised Statutes, 1967, Ch. SlVi, Sec. 309, 310.
^* Report of the State Housing Board to the Governor, "Housing Corporations"
(Chicago, Illinois: Illinois State Housing Board, 1969), p. 26. East St. Louis re-
ceived only $37,754.25.
^'Report, p. 477.
^" With regard to low-cost production techniques, architects generally are viewed
as a major obstacle in that they hesitate to become involved in mass-produced
"neutral" buildings.
Under the new interest subsidy program for homeowners, 25 percent of the initial
money can be used to aid in the purchase of existing homes."
These technical expansions, however, seem to be offset by a significant cut-
back in rent supplement funds from $65 million to $30 million. In this
context, any technical statutory revisions might be viewed as irrelevant. What
good does it do to make less money more expendable? At the very least,
the monetary cutbacks seem to push the realization of legislative achieve-
ments far into the future.
The Commission's fourth proposal called for a federal write-down of
interest rates on loans to private builders. Although similar to the second
proposal, this recommendation generally was more oriented to private de-
velopers. This distinction is that "private" in this context refers to normal
profit dealers. The federal government responded to this proposal by making
write-down assistance available through section 235 of the 1968 Housing
Act, whereby FHA makes mortgage assistance payments to the private hous-
ing developer's commercial mortgagor. The assistance is similar to that of
section 236 (interest reduction payments) in that the program can lower
the interest rate paid by a moderate-income buyer to as low as 1 per cent.^^
It should be noted, however, that the groups affected by this program gen-
erally will be those of a higher income than those affected by section 236.
That is, the program is designed for private unlimited profit developers whose
market, as the Commission recognized, would be the "moderate-rent"^^ ten-
ant. Such a program seems to have little bearing on the major sustaining
conditions of inadequate housing, i.e., widespread poverty and private market
segregation.
The Commission's fifth proposal called for an expanded and more diver-
sified public housing program. The idea here was to expand funding so as
to reduce unit cost limitations and thereby overcome institutional projects
and large concentrations of low-income families. To achieve the shift in
emphasis, the Commission urged: first, the leasing of scattered site units;
and second, the expansion of present "turnkey" programs whereby housing
authorities purchase low-rent units constructed by private developers instead
of constructing new projects.
With regard to the first objective, leased housing for families in public
units has been a part of the Housing Act since 1965. Although the new
leasing programs enacted in 1968 added new features (turnkey is the promi-
nent change), generally there has been no dramatic change in the number
of public housing dwellers in privately owned buildings. Since 1965, for
" One Year Later, p. 52.
^* Guide to Federal Law and Moderate Income Housing and Community
Development Programs, p. 10.
^^ Report, p. 478.
50
example, leased units have been occupied primarily by the elderly. There
is no evidence to indicate that this was changed significantly; but even if
it -was, the gain is offset by the fact that the number of families lix'ing in
leased, noninstitutional units is not significant. Chicago, ^vith 36,000 families
in public housing, for example, had only 875 families moved into "standard
apartments" in privately o^vned buildings under the Chicago Housing Au-
thority's leasing program.
With regard to the second objective, a number of "turnkey" programs
exist whereby housing authorities are authorized to purchase low-rent units
constructed by private developers. While these programs represent legal
devices for ending racial concentration, at present there are no programs
that seriously threaten the continued existence of the slums.
This is true with regard to the Commission's high priority sixth recom-
mendation: mi expanded Model Cities Program. Viewing Model Cities
as "potentially the most effective weapon in the federal arsenal for a long-
term, comprehensive attack on the problems of American cities,"^° the Com-
mission urged that the program be expanded beyond the 1967 coverage of
63 cities, and that appropriations be raised to a minimum of $1 billion. The
manner in which these dual recommendations were implemented reveals a
great deal about the general nature of the political process and about the
efficacy of housing programs in particular. On the one hand, in the second-
round allocations, the number of Model Cities programs was increased to
150 in 1968-69. On the other hand, Model Cities funds were cut back from
$500 million to $312.5 million.^^ The net effect of these two changes might
be to give the outward appearance of progress while actually destroying the
meaning and purpose of the Model Cities concept. Consider that the origi-
nal purpose of the program was to concentrate funds and resources in a few
selected "demonstration" cities. Given the nature of the political process —
with the need on the part of decision-makers to expand their constituencies
— the funds were so disbursed as to destroy the original concept of the pro-
gram. The disconcerting fact is not that cities were selected for "political"
reasons, but that the fragmenting nature of the political process reversed the
purpose of a key housing program.
The argument can be made, of course, that any input of money in some
cities is indication of meaningful progress. For example, in Illinois, the four
cities which receive Model Cities money use limited funds not only as oper-
ating money but also as "seed" money. That is, initial planning and action
grants are used to attract other federal programs and resources. Although
it is too earlv to evaluate the effectiveness of the four Illinois Model Cities
'" Report, p. 479.
'' See One Year Later, pp. 51-58.
programs,^^ theoretically, at least, even small amounts of initial money might
have significant import. In this sense there has been some achievement;
however, in terms of the Commission's criteria, funding of the program was
not sufficient to expand the coverage from 63 to 150 cities. Consequently,
Model Cities programs currently are operating under severe limitations.
Since half of the Model Cities' total 1968 fiscal authorization of $625 mil-
lion was eaiTnarked for urban renewal programs, it is appropriate to discuss
the Commission's seventh recommendation which called for a reoriented and
expanded urban renewal program. Essentially the Commission urged greater
funding levels as well as more emphasis in renewal programs on low-income
needs. The realization was that past projects, with limited funds, "were
aimed primarily at bolstering the economic strengths of downtown areas."^^
The overall result of such projects was to substantially reduce the supply of
low-cost housing.
In response to the needs of the poor, a number of statutory changes have
been made with regard to the 1968 urban renewal provisions. For example,
the 1968 act provides: (1) that 20 per cent of the housing units redeveloped
in urban renewal projects shall be for low- and moderate-income families;
(2) that a special "write-down" price for urban renewal land is available
when the land is put to low-income uses; and (3) that in general, urban
renewal proposals must give priority to the needs of low- and moderate-
income families. In short, in terms of statutory revisions, urban renewal is
increasingly being converted into a tool to help low-income families. Al-
though the funding of urban renewal was cut from the budget request of
$1.4 billion to $800 million, this amount continued expenditures at prior
levels.^* It is also significant that more than $300 million of Model Cities
money was earmarked to have an impact on urban renewal areas. None-
theless, these statutory changes have not as yet resulted in noticeable reorienta-
tion projects. In Chicago, for example, disputes between low-income renewal
residents and upper-income area residents have not been resolved. Given the
truly "advisory" nature of project committees in Chicago, only the most opti-
mistic observer would conclude that Chicago's poor will win in a long-term
dispute with the urban renewal bureaucracy. The serious cutback in Chi-
cago's program (from $50V2 million to $371/2 million) operates as a further
constraint on the major Illinois urban renewal program.
With regard to the eighth recommendation, reform of obsolete building
codes, even statutory changes have been difficult to implement. There has
" Chicago and East St. Louis have completed the planning phase but have just
entered the first year of the action phase. Rock Island and Carbondale, second-round
selections, are in the planning phase.
'' Report, p. 480.
-* One Year Later, p. 58. For a concise summary of this and other housing
programs see Congressional Quarterly Weekly Report (Washington, D. C: U.S.
Government Printing Office, 1968).
been activity at both the national and the state level, but little achievement
to date.
In general, the purpose of building code revision is to eliminate anti-
quated requirements that prevent builders from taking advantage of new
mass-production and innovative technologies. Nationally, there has been no
effective response to this serious problem. Although both the Douglas Com-
mission on Urban Problems and the National Bureau of Standards have been
active in this area, as yet there is no National Uniform Building Code.^^
Nor is there likely to be such a code in the immediate future. At present,
HUD officials seem to be emphasizing the need for state level action in this
regard.
At the state level there has been some action, but little success. In Illinois,
two bills which would have provided for statewide "performance" standards,
advisory councils and certification of building inspectors, were defeated in
the 1969 legislative session. ^"^ Although a similar bill undoubtedly will be
submitted in 1971, legislative insiders recognize the great political obstacles
which must be overcome to get a bill through the General Assembly.^^ At
present there is no statewide code, and local governments are free to enact
a variety of measures which are expensive to modify and difficult to enforce.
In contrast to this situation, there has been state and national action with
regard to the Commission's ninth proposal which called for enactment of a
national, comprehensive, and enforceable open occupancy law.
At the national level, as a legislative memorial to Martin Luther King,
fair housing was made part of the Civil Rights Act of 1968. According to
the Urban Coalition, however, Title VIII of the act "only gradually will
become the kind of competitive fair housing measure advocated by the Com-
mission."^^ The absence of meaningful enforcement mechanisms was cited
as the major reason. While the administration requested $11 million for
enforcement purposes, the Senate voted $9 million and initially the House
refused to authorize any money for implementation. Commenting on the
denial of funds in 1968, HUD Secretary Weaver said:
We simply cannot implement the fair housing law without more personnel. . . .
Without manpower, the fair housing legislation is meaningless.^^
^ There are a number of unofficial codes sponsored by the Building Officials
Conference of America, the National Insurance Association, the Southern Building
Officials, and the International Society of Building Officials.
^^ State Housing Board Report, (Springfield: State Housing Board, 1969),
p. 2. A performance code (as distinguished from a specific standard code) makes
technological innovations possible by relaxing the need to comply with rigid sizes,
rules, and materials standards.
"' The construction industry and labor unions are two sources of opposition.
'* One Year Later, p. 54.
^^Congressional Quarterly Weekly Report (Washington, D. C: Congressional
Quarterly, Inc., Sept. 27, 1968), p. 2540.
53
Although a supplemental appropriation of $2 million was approved, the bill
is no panacea and enforcement problems are numerous. Quickie listings,
informal listings, and private brokerage techniques remain as major obstacles.
Ultimate success will depend, it seems, upon changing realtors' attitudes.
At the state level, open housing legislation has been introduced and de-
feated in the past four regular sessions. In a special session in July, 1968, a
fair housing bill did get through the House but was killed in the Senate's
Registration and Miscellany Committee. However, at the end of the session,
"permissive" legislation was enacted \vhich gave cities and villages statutory
recognition to enact open occupancy ordinances at the local level. ^° In 1969,
a similar bill applying the permissive language to counties was defeated. The
current situation is that at the state level there is no "comprehensive and
enforceable" open occupancy law. And, for a while at least, there is not
likely to be one.
At the local level, a number of cities have enacted fair housing codes.
The city of Chicago, for example, has had an open occupancy ordinance
for some time. Suffice it to say that implementation has been less than
dramatic.
Perhaps the most dramatic response has been in regard to the Commis-
sion's tenth recommendation, reorientation of federal housing programs to
place more low- and moderate-income housing outside of ghetto areas. So-
called "scatteration" techniques have been discussed at the national level in
terms of the leasing features of "turnkey" provisions and land availability
programs. However, the most significant development in terms of the pro-
posal is the famous "Austin" decision in Illinois.
In a Chicago case^^ initiated by Negro tenants in public housing, U.S.
District Court Judge Richard Austin prescribed in detail the steps which
must be taken
to prohibit the future use and to remedy the past eflfects of the defendant Chicago
Housing Authority's unconstitutional site selection and tenant assignment
procedures. . . .
Basically the Negro tenants argued that CHA sites for family public housing
were chosen by methods which had the effect of perpetuating Chicago's pat-
tern of residential racial segregation. Information in the case disclosed that
CHA officials deferred to local aldermen who vetoed any extension of public
housing into white neighborhoods. Essentially, the "Austin Plan" seeks to
reverse the concentration of housing projects in all-black neighborhoods by
requiring specifically that CHA build 700 units in predominantly white areas
(in the city or in the suburbs) before it builds any units in black areas of the
'"Illinois Revised Statutes, 1969, Ch. 24, Sec. 11-1.
"' Gautreaux v. Chicago Housing Authority, Civ. No. 66C1459 (ND ILL., July 1,
1969).
54
city. Moreover, the "Austin Plan" prohibits CHA from concentrating large
numbers of units in or near a single location, and from building family units
above the third floor. In short, Austin ruled that CHA must build small and
integrated public housing developments on scattered sites throughout the
Chicago metropolitan area. Without question, the Austin Plan is of great
political significance. At the local level and in the housing area, it is of the
same purport as the Brown school desegregation case. The issue is whether
the Austin decision will be implemented with the same deliberate speed.
Those optimistic about the Austin Plan see the eventual end of the "proj-
ect" concept. However, given the past resistence in white neighborhoods to
low-income blacks, it is difficult to assume that implementation will be real-
ized. Those who are pessimistic about the Austin Plan see the end of public
housing in the Chicago area. That is, the ultimate solution to the problem
might be no further constiTiction.^^ At this point, however, it is only safe to
note that either alternative is possible. ^^
Conclusions and Alternatives
Patterns of implementation. Obviously, in vie^v of the Austin decision and
other developments, it is hazardous to draw any firm conclusions regarding
the question of implementation. Things are still happening and evaluation
is difficult. Nonetheless, wdth regard to the 10 housing recommendations, a
number of general patterns seem to emerge :
1. In general, implementation has not measured up to the Commission's
own criteria. Nothing close to 600,000 units have been built. Racial ghettos
remain a part of the urban scene. To be sure, progress is not achieved over-
night. But upon closer analysis it appears that even long-range meaningful
implementation is unlikely.
2. As a particular matter, it appears that evident legal achievements were
offset by political constraints such as low funding and lack of enforcement
mechanisms. For example, at the legislative and judicial levels, there has
been evidence of both detailed and dramatic change. However, many of
"- This is hardly an unreal possibility. In the mid-50's, the expansion of the
Branch County Hospital became entwined with the racial issue of "where" the
new facility would be located. Integration-oriented Negro leaders wanted private
neighborhood hospitals to open their doors to Negro patients. The city officials
wanted the new hospital built in the black community. In the end, the race issue
was resolved by not building the proposed facility. See Edward C. Banfield, Political
Influence (New York: Free Press, 1961), Chapter 2.
^' Other alternatives are of course possible. For example, city officials might
get around such technicalities as three-story limits for families by continuing to
construct high-rises with families in the first three floors and elderly residents on
the next seven.
55
these largely rhetorical responses have yet to be translated into actual change
of problem conditions.
3. In the few cases where responses have been implemented, the charac-
teristic approach has been so diffuse as to render the response ineffective.
One apparent example is the fragmentation of Model Cities money. At the
state level, the same kind of fragmentation occurred wdth the disbursal of
$110,000 of housing board money to no less than 14 local political units.
Theoretically, the money was to be used for so-called comprehensive planning.
4. Not only have achievements been infrequent, but it seems that the few
cases of achievement have occurred in selected areas. For example, it ap-
pears that achievements are more frequent in programs aimed at the private
sector than in recommendations aimed at low-income groups. As noted, in
response to recommendation four, section 235 was initiated to engage the
private sector in the housing program. Theoretically, such a program in-
directly benefits the poor. But there are serious doubts that the "trickle
down" theory has ever operated in favor of the disadvantaged. As another
example, the one program which maintained — ■ indeed increased — its fund-
ing le\^el was urban renewal. Traditionally, this program has aided the cen-
tral district businessman at the expense of the poor.
5. Moreover, the types of changes occuning have to do mainly with
structural rather than substantive matters. For example, with regard to
public housing, the provision of "in-project" services can be viewed, not as
a substantive change, but as a structural rationalization of the delivery of
traditional services. At the state level, the creation of a cabinet-rank Depart-
ment of Local Government Affairs in large part represents a reshuffling of
traditional governmental relationships and services.
In summary, it appears that the implementation of Commission recom-
mendations has been modest. Moreover, responses have been largely rhetori-
cal, fragmented, and limited to certain areas and certain types of changes.
At this point, therefore, it seems appropriate to ask why implementation is
difficult to effect.
Technical and substantive problems. In terms of dealing with the housing
situation tw^o categories of problems are evident.
First, it is possible to identify a number of serious technical (statutory or
structural) obstacles to effective programming. At the national level, for
instance, it is known that complicated rules of procedure obstruct meaningful
utilization of the rent supplements program. At the national level, coordi-
nated housing programs are hindered by multiple sources of funding, which
delays program "take off." At the state level, fragmentation of authority
between SHB and IHDA represents another theoretical drawback. As noted,
the Commission recognized such problems and placed great emphasis on
technical kinds of changes, and in certain cases such changes were effected.
No doubt focus on the revision of such technical problems is significant. But
the technical obstacle is only one part of the problem of implementing change.
There is a second set of obstacles which might be classified as substantive
matters. It appears that the key substantive block to effective implementation
of recommendations has to do with the question of political power in our
society. The argument is that the political system does not solve the housing
problem because the very political processes which control the government
limit the system's effectiveness in the housing area. That is, the determina-
tion of the public good (establishing the priorities of public investment and
governmental intei-v'ention) goes on traditionally in legislative bodies and in
executive agencies. However, as Alan Haber notes :
The composition of these bodies and hence the policy predispositions of their mem-
bers is determined by electoral and appointive processes. These processes in turn
reflect the relative political power of organized constituencies and interest groups.**
The affluent are the most powerful and the best organized. The influence
of the National Association of Real Estate Boards, wdth a constituency of
84,000 realtors, is a good example. The black poor have no influence and
are not as yet organized. That is why they are the victims of the housing
situation. They will continue to have a housing problem until they gain
political power. Government officials are responsive and responsible to the
organized private interests which control the political processes. It follows
that housing programs will reflect and support the interests of powerful pri-
vate groups. By this analysis it is hardly surprising that housing programs
designed to aid the poor have enjoyed minimal success. In this sense, the
substantive issue of political power precedes technical changes and is central
to the housing problem.
A substantive-political alternative. Clearly the Kerner Commission did
not deal with the substantive issue of political power. The Report gives two
paragraphs to the matter of powerlessness,^^ but generally the Commission
focused on technical changes and recommendations. This is reflected in the
Commission's use of the term "strategy." In the Report, "strategy" is used
in the sense of a general objective (more housing, less segregation) not as a
means of implementation. Although such goals are important, programs will
fail if methods of implementation are not suggested.
Within the scope of this paper it is impossible to suggest the many ways
of dealing with the imbalance of power in our system and the subsequent
linkage to the problem of housing. Nonetheless, if the relevant issue is power-
lessness, there is at least one way of dealing with it. Two housing programs
and one poverty program have, to some degree, endorsed and legitimized the
^ "The American Underclass," Poverty and Human Resources Abstracts, Vol. II,
No. 3 (May-June, 1967), pp. 5-21.
'= Report, p. 205.
concept of community organization of the disadvantaged so that they might
have some control over government programs and thus over their own des-
tinies. The community organization concept is based on the notion that until
the disadvantaged enter the calculus of decision-making, government policies
will not benefit them.^^ The stress is on the maximum participation of the
poor, and the objective is to secure them a place in the political system via
political mobilization. Decentralization, self-determination, political indepen-
dence, and control of programs are techniques associated with the community
organization model. While the concept has its shortcomings and is by no
means the only option available, it is offered as one way of dealing with the
key obstacle of powerlessness to effect meaningful changes.
Perhaps it is unfair to suggest that the Commission members should have
dealt with the substantive as well as the technical issues. Given the limits of
time, staff, legitimacy, etc., it is impossible to be all things to all men.^^ At
the very least, it would be difficult for any group of "reasonable" men to
propose "radical" solutions to political problems.
On the other hand, the Commission did come up with a radical (root
cause) analysis of the riots and of the housing problem. Why is it that Com-
mission methods of dealing with the problem fell short of the analysis? Is
there something about American politics which precludes designing effective
solutions to problems?^^ Again, these are difficult questions. The only cer-
tain proposition is that there will be no cure until the diagnosis is faced up to.
The essence of the Commission's diagnosis is that white racism, nurtured
by a white power structure, was the root cause of black rioting. The logic of
the present analysis is that white racism must be ended and that to end it,
power in America must be redistributed. The Commission did not adequately
deal with this key matter. Until the issue is dealt with, and until power is
redistributed, governmental responses will be irrelevant to the needs of the
powerless. Housing and other programs will surely fail. And in the words
of Kenneth Clark, we can expect to see the same old movie again. This is
an ugly thought, but one compelled by the facts.
^^ Alan Haber presents the model in his Report to the OEO.
" See Michael Lipsky and David J. Olsen, On the Policy of Riot Commissions
(Madison: Institute for Research on Poverty, 1968).
^ Other groups — divergent as the SDS or the Wallaceites — have a fairly
accurate assessment of their situation (alienation, nonresponsiveness of government).
Characteristically, how^ever, their solutions are wide of the mark. The Kerner Commis-
sion, by analogy, fell short of the mark.
58
POLICE-COMMUNITY RELATIONS
DAVID J. BORDUA
It is appropriate to begin this section with what should really be the major
conclusion of the paper. My remarks are confined with rare exceptions to
the narrow topic of police-community relations in the urban ghettos. Be-
cause of this, it is necessary to point out that the problem of race relations
in the modem United States is only secondarily a police problem and it is
only secondarily a problem that can be dealt with by improving this or that
aspect of public administration. The problem is basically political in the
larger meaning of that term and its long-run solution will require political
action not only to make available equal opportunity for Negroes to compete
effectively \vith whites but political action designed to make the more disad-
vantaged Negroes capable of effective competition.
Recent Social Changes: The Negro Enters Civil Society
This is not the time to repeat the usual litany of social change with which
by now everyone is familiar — changes in the labor market, in the willingness
of many heretofore acquiescent groups to accept restriction, etc. There are,
however, some changes that have not received as much attention as they de-
serve and which are particularly relevant to the problem at hand. Four such
changes merit brief attention: the entrance of the Negro into civil society;
recent patterns of migration of Negroes to Northern and Western cities; the
decreasing relevance of the old politics in the face of new bureaucratic social
instruments; and basic shifts away from coercion as a means of social control.
The most fundamental of recent changes is the entrance of the Negro
into civil society. Like most such events, the occasion is one of turmoil and
violence. This entrance has two important implications germane to the Com-
mission's concerns. First, Negroes are now legitimate claimants to protection
by the police. No longer are "Casbah" strategies of walling up Negro areas
without police service acceptable. Second, like all citizens in a modem legal
community, they are now entitled to protection from the police. The balance
is hard to strike in any situation but it points to the most fundamental, long-
run issue in police-Negro relations.
But Negroes enter modern civil society not only by having civic institutions
extended to them where they are but by migrating from the rural South to
the urban centers mainly in the North and West. Thus the rapid change in
the civil status of Negroes is greatly complicated by the appearance of large
numbers of urban ghetto residents almost entirely unequipped for life in the
city. The combination of migration and disadvantage helps create special
cultural forms which are of particular significance for policing the ghetto.
But migration and segregation also make for great heterogeneity in the ghetto.
All sorts and conditions of men can often be found in densely packed prox-
imity. This density and heterogeneity, coupled with lack of detailed knowl-
edge of ghetto social structure and also coupled with the way police activities
are organized, means that police often seem to act without the fine discrimi-
nations they are able to make under other circumstances.
Problems posed by migration and by the clamoring of excluded popula-
tions for civil dignity are not new to American society. They have existed in
the past and have been met with greater or lesser success and orderliness by
a variety of social devices. What distinguishes the new situation is not only
the intransigence of race as a source of social conflict but the ineffectiveness
of the old politics of bargaining and machine representation and the rise of
large bureaucratic instruments of social administration. The new politics in-
cludes the service bureaucracies, not as relatively weak, passive organizations
permeated by external private pressures, but as strong, active organizations
relatively removed from the effects of extra-organizational social involvements.
Given this situation, the center of gravity in social change and adaptation
shifts from electoral to organizational politics; from organizations as products
of the community to the community as the product of organizations; from
the relatively "blind" operation of many small units in a dispersed power
market to the relatively "rational" operation of fewer and larger units.
This change brings opportunities as well as difficulties. In the section on
modem police organization we shall see that in the case of the police and
police-community relations the opportunities greatly outweigh the problems,
and that properly conceived and properly handled, the "principled bureau-
cracy" makes available an important instrument for the reduction of com-
munity conflict.
The last of the social changes on which I shall comment is the basic shift
away from coercion as a means of social control in modern American society.
This can be documented in many areas — changes in child-rearing practices,
shifts to human relations approaches in industrial management, the elaborate
development of extra-curricular activities as a way of managing children in
school, etc. This is not to say that authoritative control is not exercised, but
rather that the role of physical coercion has declined appreciably. And, just
as importantly, the rhetorics of social control have changed perhaps even
more than the realities.
60
Looked at on the largest stage — control and integration in the nation —
major social conflicts are increasingly mitigated by distributive rather than
repressive activities. This change in the relative balance of coercion and dis-
tribution in the integration of American society has had a bad impact on
the general "public image" of the police who seem a brutish anachronism in
a society increasingly devoted to control through economic sanctions, ideo-
logical persuasion, and welfare-state distributive programs. Even a simple
accounting of public expenditures in the Twentieth Century shows not only
that investment in police has not kept pace with simple factors such as in-
flation and population growth but also that investment in other means of
managing social conflict — such as education, economic subsidies, and wel-
fare ■ — ■ have increased dramatically relative to investment in police. Negroes
are the last large, identifiable and self-conscious group to experience the
transition from control through coercion to the more complex modern situa-
tion. This transition is closely linked to the migration from the rural South
previously mentioned.
The police are never "popular" in the common usage of that term. But
the gradual development of noncoercive forms of social control has not only
affected the place of the police in the general armamentarium of the state but
has also in many ways increased the isolation of the police in the more rou-
tine activities of social control in the local community. Until quite recently
the police were systematically excluded from participation in the distribution
of the "goodies" of the welfare state and, more significantly, they were also
excluded from participation in the supportive and rehabilitative activities
that are the welfare state's unique approach to the management of specifi-
cally deviant behavior. This exclusion was not the consequence of hostility
between Negroes and the police but of the hostility toward the police of
generations of social workers and other distributive functionaires. Indeed
many rehabilitation programs have an overt anti-police ideology. Some
change seems to be taking place, especially in the management of juveniles.
Suffice it to say that the stripping from the police of any distributive and
supportive functions precisely at a time when the society as a whole has
shifted away from a coercive "stance" toward the citizenry and also at the
time when rural Southern Negroes are for the first time able to escape the
atmosphere of pervasive white violence leaves the police in an extremely ex-
posed position.
Limits on Improvements in Police-Community Relations: Police as Leaders
In most American cities until recently one way for the police to improve
their relations with the community was to be rough on Negroes. Indeed in
many cities, especially, though by no means exclusively Southern cities, a
fundamental mission of the police was Negro control. Statements like these
are harsh and, perhaps, a bit exaggerated but they point up the limits of
optimism and of euphemism. For many purposes the community does not
exist. Instead, there are harsh conflicts and highly conflicting conceptions
of what the police should do. As Negroes become more civically and politi-
cally significant they (or the more articulate leaders) demand that they too
be heard and that they too be seen as part of a "community" to which the
police must "relate." The dimensions and difficulties of the problem can be
seen in the ironic fact that despite great unevenness across the country Negroes
sometimes have better relations with the police than with other segments of
the civil order.
In many cities it is possible for a Negro to get efficient and fair police
service. In no city is it possible to get the same from realtors. In many cities
the police assign their best people to the ghetto while the schools assign their
worst. In many cities it is possible to get a policeman, difficult to get a
lawyer. In many cities police are in the ghetto nights and weekends working
with troubled boys while teachers escape. In many cities a young, intelligent
Negro has a chance to become a municipal policeman — none at all to be-
come a union plumber. In many cities a Negro woman fearful of armed
robbery can get serious police attention and at least hope for action against
the felon. For her to seriously hope for action against a derelict landlord
would cast doubt on her sanity. In many cities it is possible to be treated
decently in the station house but not to be allowed at all in the country club.
We are, in short, asking the police to lead the community in race rela-
tions. For them merely to reflect the community would be a disaster. To say
this makes plain the limits of reasonable expectation, however, and cautions
us to be on the alert. The American police have traditionally been used to
perform tasks too disgusting for the rest of the populace. We are in some
danger that relating to Negroes will join the list.
If the police are to improve their relations in the Negro ghetto and if
they are to lead, as they must, in extending civil protection and social decency
to the disadvantaged Negroes, then they must be organized so as to be free
of certain community involvements. They must paradoxically be organized
so as to decrease certain forms of community influence so they can be guided
by principled norms of conduct and not by subgroup prejudice. It is, in
short, no help to have the police closely linked into the local community if
that community's main concern is the suppression of Negroes.
These considerations lead naturally into the brief discussion of modem
police organization which follows. But they also lead naturally to a relative
pessimism about at least the short-run future. It will take important efforts
by the police merely to keep things from getting worse. Moreover, if the
small cadre of truly extremist leadership among Negroes is successful they
will seek to provoke incidents between police and populace for the sole pur-
pose of triggering disorder.
Modern Police Organization: From Cultural Participation to Community Management
Research on police organization has only begun and we have no truly
detailed studies either of the historical development of police organization
or of the effects of various ways of organizing police work. Nevertheless, the
outlines of recent major developments are fairly clear and at least some work
goes beyond the level of pure speculation about effects.
A variety of terms have been used to describe the central trend in modern
police organization: professionalization, modernization, bureaucratization, ra-
tionalization. The term professionalization is the one most often used, espe-
cially in police circles, but it refers to a wide variety of developments in train-
ing, selection, command and control, and general sophistication of planning,
manpower allocation, etc. For purposes of these comments the most dis-
tinctive meaning of these developments has been found in the progressive
centralization of control over police operations and a correlative withdrawal
of police from certain foiTns of community involvement. Concomitant with
these developments have been dramatic changes in the efficiency of police
operations, speed of dispatch, etc. There has also gradually developed a set
of loose strategic concepts about the appropriate mission of the police in
reducing crime and an often-expressed desire to raise police occupational
status, not only by improved performance, but by clear specialization on the
single function of crime control through the apprehension of offenders. The
statistical figures on crimes known to the police and crimes cleared by arrest
are often used as indicators of success. But perhaps the most important single
emphasis is on preventive patrol, especially under the doctrines of aggressive
patrol or saturation patrol.
One important conclusion I should like to make out of this completely
superficial discussion of police organization is this: these professional develop-
ments are a priceless civic resource won after much struggle and against
heavy resistance. For the first time they provide us with organizational in-
struments sufficiently under central control to be rationally modifiable and
adaptable to a variety of tasks. The issues now are the uses to which such
instruments are to be put. It is precisely the "withdrawal" from the com-
munity which characterizes these organizations which makes them available
to help solve community conflicts. After all, the sheriff's posse that whipped
the Selma marchers was undoubtedly better related to its "community" in
the matter of civil rights than any police unit since.
It is particularly important that the society not succumb to an irrational
nostalgia for the mythical "old time cop." It is understandable that in times
of stress we should imagine that in some golden age there was peace and,
moreover, that that peace was brought about by wise and kindly men exer-
cising a kindly control over the wayward. In addition, it is precisely authority
exercised in this supposedly kindly but of course also personally arbitrary
63
fashion that migrating Negroes are likely to hate most. To whites this may
be the image of Officer Flanagan. To poor Negroes it is the image of Mr.
Charlie.
There is a modem, and on the surface less nostalgic, version of the "Old
Time Cop." This is the idea that policemen should be recruited from among
the local populace because they will "know the culture." This is a highly
doubtful notion for many reasons, the main one being that it is not possible
to recruit policemen from those segments of the ghetto which are most prob-
lematic. Recruit Negroes by all means, but no one should expect much more
knowledge of the problems at issue on the part of Negro policemen than on
the part of whites.
All these considerations lead to a basic general conclusion. The modern
police can not function simply as representatives of community culture —
assuming it is coherent enough to be represented. They must stand aside
from the culture to a large degree and function as community managers.
This does not mean that they can function without knowledge of local cul-
ture and social structure, especially in the ghetto, but this knowledge must
come as the result of sophisticated training and must be used in the context
of a self-conscious awareness of the management role of the police. Chief
among the needed innovations in police training and deployment are devices
designed to produce the requisite cultural knowledge and to overcome the
culture shock experienced by policemen. No simple fonnula about recruiting
from a supposed ghetto culture will do the trick.
This is especially the case in periods of rapid social change in which police
goals will have to change along with the rest of the society. Police recruit-
ment must emphasize trainability and flexibility, the capacity to work in and
run small teams with litde direct supervision, and the capacity to absorb and
further complex organizational goals in rapidly changing circumstances. In
short, after a transitional period of professionalizing police organizations it will
be necessary to really professionalize policemen.
Demands of the Present Situation: The Police as Monitors of Social Change
Departmental policy and procedure must recognize that the police are
presiding over a massive and disruptive historical change and that police
action must be geared to a conception of the desirable outcome of that change
process and not simply to concepts of "law enforcement as usual." In their
role as community managers the police will have to participate more in the
goal-setting functions of government.
This involves them in "politics." But of course they are involved in poli-
tics in one way or another anyhow. If they are to avoid being politically
maneuvered into being hired oppressors by reactionary whites or manipu-
lated targets by extremist Negro leaders, they will have to present themselves
as detached and principled specialists in community order. As an example,
when white pressure leads the city government to recommend the creation
of dog units for use in the ghetto, a professional police chief should be pre-
pared to testify that such a move would decrease rather than increase order
and stability.
Implications for Law Enforcement Practice
The following focus will be on suggestions within the la\v enforcement
function itself. Later I shall try to deal with the problem of possible shifts in
the "service mix" which the police provide. The order of discussion is de-
liberate. To reiterate, the basic service which the police provide to Negroes
is protection and through that the extension of meaningful citizenship.
It will be helpful to state my recommendations in the form of a few basic
policy guidelines with some more specific suggestions and some interpretive
discussion following them. The guidelines, like all such general statements,
are simple and even trite. They flow, however, from the more complex ma-
terial of the introduction and can perhaps be made less simple and trite by
the more specific suggestions which follow them.
Policy Guideline I: As community managers and monitors of social
change, the police should enforce the law as vigorously as possible but short
of the point where vigorous enforcement produces more strain than the
system can stand.
This of course means that the social and civic state of the ghetto is a
legitimate concern of the police as well as the crime rate therein. Some
implications of this guideline can be spelled out in terms of more specific
choices and requirements.
A. The choice of areas of concentration of enforcement effort.
As previously mentioned, the ghetto is in need of security of person and
property. This is the fundamental service performed by the police. They
should not reduce efforts in this direction, especially in the area of inter-
personal violence, although there are modifications possible in the organiza-
tion and procedures used. The police can, however, reduce their efforts in
the areas of enforcement involving "crimes without victims" such as prosti-
tution and gambling.
Since these latter enforcement activities are largely at the initiation of the
police themselves, they do not ordinarily constitute a call for service from a
citizen. Moreover, they constitute an "invasion" of ghetto social structure
and a kind of gratuitous inter\'ention in activities which neither the ghetto
resident nor the larger community are likely to see as a serious threat to
public order.
B. The choice between response to reported offenses and attempts to
weaken the social formations which are seen to produce offenses.
In many ways it is sound doctrine for the police to deal with crime "be-
fore" it occurs. Unfortunately, the way such a doctrine is implemented may
cause more harm than good. The most obvious case in point is the common
practice of keeping pressure on street-comer groups and gangs. Practices
vary greatly, of course, but in many cities a great deal of effort is put into
"harassment" of groups of older teenagers and young male adults on the
twin grounds that this keeps them off balance and also helps maintain the
authority of the police. It is doubtful that there is much real payoff here
in the apprehension of real offenders and there is much reason to believe that
the hostility generated vastly outweighs any gain in "respect" for the police.
Other preventive practices can be discussed under this rubric. Doctrines
of aggressive patrol often give rise in high crime areas to verv- high frequencies
of field interrogation and high frequencies of arrests.
These interrogations and arrests may in specific cases be justified, but the
high rates seem predicated on the assumption that the entire ghetto popula-
tion is "crimogenic." In short, the entire ghetto population is sometimes
treated like a gang. There are three consequences of this worth mentioning.
1. There may be a high level of interference with the free passage of
citizens who at least at that time are not involved in crime.
2. Arrest records for minor offenses are so high that whole subpopu-
lations, especially young males, come to see themselves as licked before
they start; as outlawed from civil society before they have ever partici-
pated. Precisely as educational and emplo)TTient opportunity for young
Negroes expands, this relatively free use of arrest becomes the marginal
difference betv\'een making it and not. The better things get in the
ghetto, the more hostility such practices will generate. However, to some
degree arrest frequencies are the result of the alternatives available to the
police. This problem will be discussed later.
3. This kind of police action fails to "shore up" the large majority of
law-abiding citizens in the ghetto as much as is desirable. The sometimes
undiscriminating conduct of police tends to drive the law-abiding and
the law-violating together as allies against the police. This should be
avoided at almost any cost. Not only does this destroy the social base
for improved police relations, but it tends to discourage the very social
developments it should be the main function of the public sector to en-
courage — the development of more of a stake in conformity and more
successful performance within the law. The Negro factory worker walk-
ing home late at night from his job should be escorted, not interrogated.
C. The choice of social locations of intervention.
As a general matter, policemen police the streets or at least they police in
the streets. No quarrel can be made with this in general. However, police
manpower allocation strategies do not seem to be derived from any sophisti-
cated analysis of just what social spaces need to be made safer. If we take as
the main goal of police w^ork the production of safety rather than the appre-
hension of offenders, then a beginning could be made on the needed strategies.
It should be emphasized, however, that the police are not at fault here, since
there has been utterly no attention given traditionally to these matters by
social scientists. We have produced highly sophisticated analyses of the social
structure of factories to help managers increase production and even more
sophisticated analyses of consumer behavior to help advertisers increase sales.
We have had almost no discussion, much less research, designed to help
police produce public safety. What has been done has been done by the
police themselves almost entirely.
One of the major gains of modem police organization and professionaliza-
tion is the development of actually and potentially much more sophisticated
ideas of manpower allocation. But key questions remain unanswered. What
are the ideal places for locating police? What are ghetto social patterns in de-
tail so that the safety of ghetto residents can be more adequately assured?
Should policemen ride busses late at night to protect late workers? Should
there be many more local police posts — corner kiosks, etc. — along key
routes? Are there ways of distributing the police so they can pay more atten-
tion to the people they are sworn to protect and less to potential offenders?
Is it really impossible to station police inside buildings, etc?
Policy Guideline II: The police should pursue a policy of co-optation
aimed at reducing their isolation as enforcers of order in the ghetto.
This guideline could have been phrased in various ways. The basic thrust
is to decrease the vulnerability of the police as the symbolic repressive agents
of the society and also to enlist the police as sources of pressure on other
agencies which now shrink from the "nasty" job of exerting authority. The
concrete strategies will vary from place to place and depending upon the
particular other agency or institutional sphere involved. I shall try to spell out
a few examples of approaches with particularly crucial social units.
A. Examples of co-optation procedures with respect to the legal system.
Many police practices which are disruptive in the ghetto exist because of
weak institutional supports for police authority in the United States. The
police are likely to expand their operating authority to give themselves a
"cushion," so to speak.
1. The police should refuse to interrogate a suspect in the station un-
less the suspect has counsel. They should refuse even if the suspect waives
his right to counsel. Correlatively, the police should demand that social
arrangements for the routine provision of counsel be developed. If this
police insistence on due process should turn out to be illegal, then I
suggest a substitute which will be discussed more generally later on. This
is the Citizen Observer technique. If a suspect waives his rights or if
counsel is unavailable, the police should enlist local citizens (paid by
OEO?) as observers of interrogation. The police should initiate this
program and advertise it fairly widely. They should especially try to
enlist members of black activist groups for this purpose.
2. The police should bend every effort to gain statutory and judicial
support for police authority where it is legitimately exercised. Most par-
ticularly, the courts should be much tougher on cases of physical resistance
to the police.
Some of the above may seem "hard-nosed" but it derives from some
crucial considerations which have been partially discussed earlier. First, the
American police take an incredible amount of "gufT" from the citizenry- —
especially in high-crime ghetto-type areas. This guff is mainly verbal but oc-
casionally physical. Second, while the society seems firmly committed to the
social ideal of an insultable police, it does not seen so clear about an assaultable
police. Nevertheless, the judicial attitude is often "You're a big man with
weapons. Learn to take care of yourself out there." A quite inappropriate
comparison is often made to the British police who through some magic are
supposedly able to gain more compliance with less force. Much of the magic
lies in the routine respect shown to police authority by the lower courts, even
to the point of using testimony as to the conduct of the defendant toward the
constable as an important criterion in deciding sentences within the available
discretionary range. The cowboys-and-Indians orientation of many American
courts has its limits. Of course there is much bootleg support for the police
by the American legal system which occurs in the plea-bargaining process, etc.,
but its very bootleg nature means that the police must use semideviant means
to get formal support.
Third, American society has a long history of abandoning the police and,
in effect, segregating them from the rest of the social order. The rest of the
society does not want to get involved in the use of coercive authority and thus
isolates those who must. This abandormient has been particularly pronounced
in the case of the Liberal Intellectuals, who until recently either ignored the
police or talked about "brutes in blue." Suddenly these Liberals' values (and
interest, one must add) are threatened by disorder and the police are inun-
dated by attention from the professors.
Fourth, the most serious instance of withdrawal from law enforcement by
any relevant social category has been the case of the legal profession. The
situation is too well known to require detailed comment, but the seriousness
of the situation as well as the exquisite irony of the current state of affairs is
indexed by the recent recommendation of the President's Commission on
Law Enforcement and the Administration of Justice that it would be a good
idea if all police departments had at least a part-time lawyer available. Things
are changing, of course, but until recently criminal law ranked low in law
schools; criminal defense practice ranked low in the profession, and law
schools seemed quite unwilling to train police administrators. Recent changes
should be very much encouraged.
The role of the legal profession is even more crucial if we attempt a some-
what more general summary of this whole discussion of police and the legal
system. In the long run, substantive and procedural legality is one of the best
defenses of the police as well as one of the best defenses from the police.
Legality is the best overall normative base for the police in a time of conflict.
But legality in the sense of adherence to norms of due process does not alone
provide the police with the necessary social base. While the reciprocal changes
mentioned above — more attention to due process by the police, more sup-
port for police authority by the courts — point to a more secure relationship
between the police and the formal legal system per se, it is not a sufficient
social base for the police. The police need support, and the accompanying
social rewards for restraint, from sources outside the state apparatus itself.
Broadly conceived, the legal profession is the ideal linking or bridging
group because of its involvement in the official apparatus and its independence
from the state. Because of their increasingly crucial role in the creation of
law as well as public opinion, the law schools and the organized Bar are the
key organizational foci of involvement of the legal profession. Because of their
multiple roles with respect to the law, lawyers are the key group in the "legal
community" as opposed to simply the officially defined legal system.
B. Examples of co-optation procedures with respect to social units outside
the legal system.
1. Following on the argument above, the police should make every
effort to involve the legal profession in law enforcement, not only in the
obvious ways of securing legal counsel for suspects and for the police
themselves, but in the larger sense of participation of law schools and the
Bar.
2. The police should make every effort to avoid being placed in the
position of hired "bully boys" by other social agencies — public or private
— that operate in the ghetto. Thus if, for example, schools wish to avail
themselves of police service they should be required to have representatives
present and participating at every stage of the case so that it is clear that
both agencies share in the imposition of authority. Too often in slum
areas the police are visibly despised by social agency personnel and used
as a "bogey man" with which to frighten, especially adolescents. The
maintenance of order is a necessary accompaniment of the provision of
services.
The police are often accused of taking a "narrow" view of the complex
processes of slum social change. Their view is not necessarily more narrow
than that of other agencies, and much of it comes by being forced into a
narrow function. For example, I have seen so-called detached workers
glowing with gratification because they were able to gain rapport with
"tough" gangs when all they did was constantly warn the boys that if
they did not straighten out they would get "busted." The rapport of the
worker is purchased by increasing hostility toward the police.
3. The police should involve as many ghetto residents as possible in
the role of Citizen Observer. This was previously discussed in connection
with station interrogation but it applies much more generally. Observers
should be involved in all phases of police operations — from patrol to
interrogation to lock-up, etc. A local Citizens' Advisory Committee could
be created from among the observers and not only manage the Citizen
Observer program but assist the police with other problems as well. The
program should be initiated by the police. Many departments have similar
programs involving law students, journalists, or others as obsen^ers. These
programs are not only excellent "public relations" for the police but also
are ways for police administrators to exert control over the rank and file
by raising the social visibility of police operations.
Most such programs, however, are designed to relate police to the non-
ghetto community. Needed in addition are programs designed to involve
ghetto residents more closely. The police should explore the possibility of
recruiting on a systematic basis Citizen Observers from the ghetto itself.
A particularly good strategy would be for the police to request other
agencies such as the Office of Economic Opportunity to provide funds for
small payments to Citizen Obsei-vers. This ^vould help to recompense low-
income ghetto residents who are working as \vell as to attract some of the
unemployed.
The "mix" of observers should include the range of ghetto social
types — stable workmen, traditional community leaders and professionals,
unemployed men and, most crucially, members of the new Black Po\ver
groups and Black Nationalists.
Such a Citizen Observer program, if systematically developed and used,
^vould serve several purposes. First, it would improve police social awareness
of the range and variety of people in the ghetto, not by lectures on "brother-
hood" or "subcultures," but by daily contact. Second, it would serve as a
device for co-opting potentially hostile ghetto members into at least superficial
contact with the law enforcement function. Third, it would again reduce the
isolated visibility of the police as the alien source of coercion.
Fourth, it would put the police in a favorable moral position with respect
to the more extremist Negro leaders. By taking the initiative in asking to be
obser\^ed, the police \vould steal the thunder from some of these extremists.
Even should they refuse on the grounds that they do not want to be "co-
opted" (ever)one reads the social science literature these days) so they can
retain their revolutionary purity, it would be clearer to ghetto residents and
potential followers that the extremist program is one of planned confrontation
with the police rather than one of simple reduction of police "brutality."
A fifth function servable by an observer program is that of introducing
more restraint on police conduct, especially verbal conduct, toward the
citizenry. The observers thus become an indirect arm of top police administra-
tion. A sixth function would be to introduce new sources of communication
into the ghetto about police operations in general as well as about specific
incidents. These could be valuable antidotes to the wild rumors that some-
times circulate about even the most legitimate police activities.
Seventh, the development of such a program, especially if it were on a
sizeable scale, would be a way of performing the "shoring-up" function men-
tioned earlier. Most (though not necessarily all) of the observers would be re-
cruited from among the law-abiding segments of the local populace. They
would constitute a clear recognition by the police of the social worth of these
segments. Such a program would also be a beginning in the direction of en-
listing such persons, at least to some degree, on the side of law enforcement.
As it is now, many such persons want to both have their cake and eat it. They
want police protection but they also want to be anti-police.
Eighth and finally, such a program might help further the process of racial
integration within police departments themselves. While little is known sys-
tematically, it is reasonable to believe that organizational inclusion of Negro
officers has rarely led to much interpersonal integration. No intellectually
sophisticated effort has been made to develop concepts of the ideal patterns
of intradepartmental integration, but as a starter anything that reduces the
sometimes high levels of interracial animosity within departments might be a
good idea. Careful assignment of observers to uniracial and biracial police
teams and work situations might be at least a start in that direction.
While Policy Guideline II is phrased in terms of co-optation, many of the
suggested procedures and functions might have been phrased in terms of the
more traditional language of communication. This was not done because
advice to "improve communication" has been plentiful and has rarely in-
cluded, even in general terms, the goals of such improvement nor the social
structural means which should be used. Nevertheless, there are some desirable
procedures directly involved in law enforcement that can be seen as more
purely communicative and less involved in actually creating new social struc-
tures and roles. This need for improved communication and knowledge leads
to the next policy guideline.
Policy Guideline III: Communication to police about the ghetto should be
improved, as should communication between police and ghetto residents.
In some ways this is the most trite and shopworn of the guidelines. This
is so, not because truly efTective programs for improving communication are
widespread, but because the talk about communication is so common and
communication often is seen as a magical specific that can substitute for ef-
fective reorganization and action. As a general thesis the basic thrust of the
preceding section can be repeated. Communication is likely to be best when
it takes place as part of stable and continuing social relationships such as the
Citizen Observer program. In many ways communication is best when com-
munication per se is not the manifest aim of a program. Many police-com-
munity relations programs do not significantly afTect the relational systems
which in fact involve police and community, and therefore they are less ef-
fective than they might be.
Because of the varied literature on this aspect of the problem, I shall not
attempt much in the way of detail here. The more specific comments will be
divided into two areas: communication to the police and communication
between police and ghetto.
A. Problems of communication to the police about the ghetto.
Much effort is currently being expended attempting to acquaint the police
with minority group cultures and attitudes and with the special problems of
policing, especially in Negro areas. To my knowledge, most of these educa-
tional programs have not been really well evaluated or even researched at all.
Such educational programs sufTer from a number of serious handicaps —
shortness of time, removal from daily operations, the difficulty of translating
new "knowledge" into effective procedures, the presence in influential posi-
tions of command personnel who subtly or otherwise punish users of "new-
fangled" ideas. Nevertheless, the general effort must be continued and even
expanded.
Formal educational programs should be expanded, not only because their
content is needed, but because they define policing as a sophisticated and "in-
tellectual" pursuit in a complex modern society. Such programs should ideally
be associated with colleges and universities, especially when conducted for
command personnel. This would help break down the social isolation of the
police from the academic and/or intellectual segments of the larger
community.
These kinds of formal educational programming overlook, however, many
possible techniques for improving communication about the ghetto and its
problems. Some of these other techniques can be briefly referred to here.
More detailed exposition would require more time and certainly more knowl-
edge of specific local details.
72
1. The use of white-Negro relations within police departments as
channels of communication. As mentioned previously, "integrated" de-
partments seem characterized by much estrangement between white and
Negro officers. Perhaps something like "T-Group" programs across racial
lines would be helpful, at least in communicating more effectively to
whites what it is like to be a Negro in modern American society. Other
more sophisticated uses of integrated teams, etc., might be devised.
2. Police departments could require that as a condition of promotion
all new sergeants live for some short period with "host families" in the
ghetto. If done on a regularized basis, this would also help with problems
of changing the attitudes of ghetto residents toward policemen. Host
families could be recompensed out of police training budgets or some
other source.
3. Policemen — perhaps mainly new sergeants who are a critical
group — could be attached temporarily as part of their training to social
service agencies — public or private — serving ghetto populations. This
would acquaint them not only with the complexity of ghetto social life but,
perhaps even more importantly, with the aims and efforts of other service
agencies.
Suggestions such as the above lead naturally to the second half of Guide-
line III, communication between police and ghetto residents.
B. Problems of communication between police and ghetto residents.
Here, of course, it is possible to go far afield. Suffice it to say that almost
everything police do in or to any population is "communication" in the sense
that it conveys important symbolic content even if intended to simply do a
job. It is not my intention to cover the range of police operations from a
communication perspective. Neither is it my intention to discuss the variety
of devices such as meetings with local groups, etc., which have been developed
by police around the countr\'. As is the case with formal educational pro-
grams, these procedures have rarely been evaluated systematically or even
studied carefully. Moreover, it is not clear what the consequences for such
programs of the newly emerging Black Nationalist and Black Power move-
ments will be.
My only suggestion here is in a very ordinary but, I believe, significant
area: Simple improvement of the level of courtesy with which police ap-
proach and deal with ghetto residents would pay big dividends. Included
in this courteous discourse would be much more explanation of the rationale
behind specific police actions, e.g., field interrogations, etc.
On this somewhat banal note I shall end this general section on impli-
cations for law enforcement and turn to the problem of the "service mix"
provided by the police.
Implications for an Increase in Supportive Services
In the introduction to these comments I mentioned the negative conse-
quences for the image of police which flo\v from the fact that methods of
social control and social integration have generally shifted from the more
obviously coercive to a complex mixture of distributive activities, persuasion,
and economic sanctions. The police come then to seem, even within the realm
of state activity, exceptional and strange. For loose discussion purposes we
can say that the police have come to be identified almost entirely with the
coercive function of the state and isolated from involvement in the "sup-
portive" functions performed by the modern welfare state. This distinction
between coercion and support is hard to make consistently because of the
problem of specifying who the clientele of the police are. The coercion of
person A may be socially and emotionally supportive of person B.
Another social change is relevant here. Without attempting a sophisticated
analysis of recent histor)', there are many signs that all segments of the
populace are much more acutely aware of their formal rights and more in-
sistent that they be respected. Recent Supreme Court decisions may indi-
rectly contribute by making the populace more rights-conscious and less willing
to let the police function more broadly as general representatives of "moral,"
as opposed to more narrowly legal, order. Paradoxically, it seems as though
the increased power of the state is accompanied by a decreased power of the
police. The public as a whole seems less willing than formerly to accept in-
formal dispute-settling and conflict-mediating activities on the part of the
police, or indeed police direction in any matter in which the legal basis for
police action is not clear. Another way of saying the same thing is to say that
increasingly police are required by popular attitude either to make a formal
arrest or to take no action at all in a situation.
Given this situation, attempts to change the ser\dce "mix" provided by the
police in a more supportive direction may run into serious popular and even
legal difficulties. Clearly the need is for activities that do not run the risk of
increasing the visibility of police as agents of coercion.
Policy Guideline IV: Police should increase the amount of supportive ser-
vice that they perform.
This is a far more complex area than those which have already been
discussed, and specific recommendations are harder to make without much
more qualification than is appropriate for this document. Nevertheless, it is
possible to divide discussion here into three roughly distinct areas: the per-
formance of "traditional" or customary nonenforcement or semienforcement
services, the development of routinized large-scale services of a more support-
74
ing or "helping" nature which are also highly visible, and development of the
police in the direction of a generalized "public safety" or protection service
with police as a kind of generalized "ombudsman" for the poor.
A. The performance of traditional or customary nonenf or cement or semi-
enforcement services.
Interestingly enough, we do not know very much about the actual pattern
of ser\-ices the police do provide. Clearly, however, they have traditionally
pro\ided a wide variety of sendees which are either unrelated to enforcement
or only tangentially so. One recommendation would be that professionalizing
departments be very careful about reducing these services in order to con-
centrate on crime control per se. Even today in highly professional depart-
ments much of the work of units such as patrol is what the men sometimes
call "Mickey Mouse" services, e.g., cats in trees, lonely widows with vivid
imaginations. Police operations analysts should study the causes and conse-
quences of such requests for service with an eye to developing a more positive
approach.
B. The development of routinized large-scale services of a supportive or
"helping" nature which are at the same time highly visible.
A classic example here is ambulance service. It would be nice if every
American community had a really efficient ambulance service and even nicer
if the police could provide it. The intent here is to build into police opera-
tions on a routine basis some of these helping functions. As police work and
other social services are presently organized, however, this may be difficult. In
many areas, e.g., counseling of new migrants or helping youth, it is more
sensible for the police to work in a multiagency setting.
C. The development of the police in the direction of a more generalized
"public safety" or protection service, with police as a kind of generalized
"ombudsman" for the poor.
Recent suggestions for changes in the ser\'ice "mix" provided by the police
seem to indicate directions of development rather different from those indi-
cated immediately above. The President's Commission idea of the Community
Service Agent is one major example. Nowhere have these newer ideas been
formalized fully, so it is necessary to react in a rather unsystematic fashion.
I should like to do so under two separate headings: the role of the police as
a referral source in the solution of personal and family problems, and the role
of the police as processers of complaints involving other public service agencies.
Before proceeding with the discussion of material under these two head-
ings, it is helpful to back up a bit and reconsider another of the social changes
mentioned in the introduction to these comments. This is the change from
traditional community politics and structure to ones based much more on large
75
formal organizations. These organizations are the characteristic systems of
our time, so to speak, and two areas of organizational activity are particularly
relevant for the problem of police-community relations in the ghetto: or-
ganizations as resources for the solution of personal and family problems, and
organizations as providers of physical services and regulators of the quality
of physical ser\'ices.
The isolation and specialization of the police of \\hich we spoke earlier has
been accompanied by the development of an elaborate congeries of formal
organizations whose services are relevant to ghetto life. The broad distinction
between those focusing on personal-social problem-solving and those focusing
on regulation and the provision of physical services is very rough, but useful,
especially since many of the former are private whereas the latter are public.
Moreover, suggestions for change in police practices will differ for the two
areas.
1. Organizations involved in the solution of personal and family
problems.
One of the obvious anomalies in the organization of social services in
American cities is that the many organizations possessing resources for the
supportive solution of personal problems have ven' limited access to
the population (s) ^vith the problems, Avhile organizations having access to
these populations have very limited resources for the solution of the prob-
lems encountered. The police are of course preeminent in this latter
category.
Another important consideration here is the fact that the problem-
solving agencies exist in such multiplicity and confusion that even where a
potential client wants to become an actual one, he is often deterred from
doing so. This problem of lack of access is especially pronounced among
the poor.
One obvious, and I think crucial, suggestion here, is for the police to
function as referral sources to link problems with resources. Police can be
trained, I believe, to make rough initial diagnoses of many problem situa-
tions and make reasonably satisfactoiy initial referrals, especially if some
combined referral point is available. The police are obviously not the
only agency ^vhose referral function can be improved, and there are many
programs designed specifically to improve the referral process. Our con-
centration here is on the police, however.
Systematic involvement of the police in the referral process should have
several main features and could conceivably have several main results.
As to the main features, the following seem foremost :
a. The referral should be obligatory on the agency involved.
The agency should be required at minimum to do a preliminary
analysis and report results to the police.
76
b. The referral should be voluntaiy on the person (s) involved, al-
though it would be legitimate for the police to use infoimation on past
refusal or unsatisfactory relationship with the social agency as grounds
to arrest in the next instance where law violation is involved, e.g., re-
peated domestic disputes with threatened or actual violence. This
procedure is of course much like that followed (ideally) with juveniles
in many departments and, of course, raises some of the same issues of
legality.
2. Organizations involved in the provision of physical and/or regula-
tory services.
A wide variety of agencies have the responsibility for the provision of
general physical services and/or regulating the "physical" conditions of
life in the ghetto. The most crucial of these agencies are public, e.g.,
housing inspection units, street and sanitation departments, and weights
and measures inspection units.
Ghetto residents report a wide variety of dissatisfactions with these
agencies, with the focus perhaps especially on housing code enforcement
units. One of the reasons for the dissatisfaction is that the poor often have
no eflfective way of bringing pressure to bear on these agencies. The tra-
ditional methods of party political activity do not seem effective. The
newer methods of grass-roots community organization seem thus far to be
also of limited effect.
One sensible suggestion here is to make the police the generalized repre-
sentative of the ghetto citizen in his struggle with these agencies. The
police would thus receive process and follow-up complaints involving such
agencies. This is tantamount to making the police the Ombudsman for
the poor. This is in many w-ays an attractive suggestion, but it is necessary
to warn against many pitfalls.
A few general points can be made. First, the use of police to process com-
plaints could easily make the police more vulnerable to attack and even more
the target of hostility. There is, after all, no real assurance that police in-
volvement here will in fact improve the level of city services as they affect the
ghetto poor. Thus the police could be held responsible for a wide range of
service "failures" from \\hich they are at least dissociated at present.
Second, city services in general need improvement and rationalization and
more effective programming, especially in serving Negro lower-class areas.
The required changes should be approached directly by city and state govern-
ment. The capacit)- of the urban bureaucracies to resist and undermine
change is so highly developed that no palliatives in the way of involving the
police should be provided which will prevent real change.
Third, it is not cleair to me how in fact the police would be able to "en-
force" their wishes with respect to citizen complaints. Would this not deeply
involve the police in the bureaucratic in-fighting which is so characteristic
in the area?
Finally, I should confess that my caution here is partly due to objections
of the sort raised above, but also partly due to my real lack of knowledge of
current practices and future possibilities in this sector of possible police
operations.
Implications for Police Organization
The basic suggestion I have for change in police organization follows
closely the recommendations of the President's Commission on Law Enforce-
ment and the Administration of Justice. The basic concept is that of the Area
Team which would be responsible for the public safety and order and most
operations in a delimited area of the so-called ghetto.
Teams would be composed mainly of detectives supplemented by Youth
Officers, some patrol personnel, community relations people, etc. The basic
operational idea is to reduce the over-reliance on patrol, increase the refine-
ment of police information-gathering so as to reduce the level of field interro-
gation, etc., and to create more of a sustained but less abrasive "presence" of
the police.
Internally the team might have some specialization, e.g., between burglary
and robbery men, but this should not be overstressed. The functionally spe-
cialized divisions within detective units would still be maintained for opera-
tions elsewhere and for dealing with particularly "sticky" cases.
Ideally this sort of team would spend much more time within ghetto so-
ciety than do patrol people. One main function of such a unit is coordinative,
especially in the flow of information concerning the social state of their area.
Perhaps devices such as frequent conferences, etc., would not only generate
better information flow but would actually see that some of it was used in-
stead of bottled up in "beat books" !
This concept implies somewhat greater decentralization than at least some
departments now display. Decentralization is an increasingly "good" word in
police circles. It is important therefore to recall the important values of
centralization alluded to earlier. Centralization has many values in efficiency
and control and especially in maintaining the sense of organizational and
occupational separateness and morale necessary to minimize corruption, bru-
tality, and other forms of malpractice. Many modem organizations have been
faced with similar problems (e.g., the military, correctional institutions, mental
hospitals) and they have at least made attempts to develop new combinations
of central control coupled with decentralized initiative and inter-rank
collaboration.
Problems of control are central and complex. These team concepts pre-
suppose a police controllable largely through training, commitment to mission,
and involvement in local teams that change personnel slowly enough to main-
tain an esprit de corps. Present control techniques such as crime clearance
rates, response time measures, and arrest quotas presuppose low commitment
and lack of subgroup morale.
Thus along with such a system would have to come quite different tech-
niques of supervision, communication, reporting, and control. They could not
all be detailed here even if known, but the general thrust should be toward a
more collaborative effort with more conferencing and more involvement of
superiors as guides, leaders, and consultants rather than as merely order-givers.
In many departments there would be serious problems of implementation.
Some of the most resistant might well be those which are by many criteria good
ones. Especially in those where centralized professionalization is only a recent
achievement, suggestions of the sort presented here and in the President's
Commission report will seem like a return to the "bad old days." If "Officer
Flanagan" means "Mr. Charlie" to many Negroes, it means "police scandal"
to many professional police administrators.
One last suggestion may be superfluous, though I doubt it. It has to do
with the general spirit in which the police are approached. Police work is an
honorable estate. It's practitioners should be honorably approached.
The most sophisticated national survey of police-community relations
programs and problems was prepared for the President's Commission on Law
Enforcement and Administration of Justice. In reviewing a number of pro-
grams, the survey lists weaknesses that affected one or more of the programs
then in existence. In no particular order these are: noncommitment of the
top police command; use of community relations units solely to respond to
crises; serious budget problems; problems of organizational placement and
lack of direct-line involvement; weaknesses in the District Committee system;
hasty implementation and the tendency to mechanically copy other programs;
stress on public relations or selling the police image: failure to reach the
"grass roots."
Examples of Program Pitfalls
The President's Commission Survey cited above contains fairly detailed
descriptions of several community relations programs. It seemed useful to
conclude this paper by describing three rather ambitious programs differing
in nature but having in common the fact that they all have experienced
difficulties.
The first example is the San Francisco Police-Community Relations Unit.
79
It is described both by the President's Commission Survey and in a 1968 publi-
cation by Jerome H. Skolnick.^
This was a special unit which was organized after considerable political
pressure in the city and which enjoyed the full support of the Chief of Police.
It was, however, largely opposed by the rank-and-file policemen. In the
course of its operations, the unit became isolated from the rest of the force
and its work was poorly integrated with the rest of the department's activities.
According to Skolnick, the unit did, however, develop good working rela-
tions with the several police-relevant minorities. Indeed, this developed to
the point where Skolnick describes the unit as becoming a kind of "ombuds-
man" for minorities. In the process, the unit's members and director became
unusually sympathetic to the needs of minorities and thus found itself caught
in the middle in police-minority conflicts. This in-between position became
particularly clear when the unit began receiving — and attempting to act
upon — complaints against the police. This, of course, made conflict with
"regular" police even sharper.
Correlative with these developments, the local (and national) political
climates changed and the Chief of Police found himself under increasingly
severe pressure to change the unit's operations. The pressure came from
several sources; but Skolnick singles out a police unionization movement led
by an extremely conservative union leader as especially significant. The unit
was ultimately partly reorganized and its director was squeezed out of the
department.
The major implications of this description seem to be that such specialized
units should not be left in such an organizationally exposed position; that a
specialized unit can become a focus for police animosity unless great efforts
are made to improve community relations attitudes generally; that strong
political support is needed to sustain such pioneering efforts; and, finally,
that police-community relations should 7iot take on the complaint-processing
function. In order to avoid this last difficulty, however, it will be necessary
for the department to have an effective complaint-handling system.
The second example of program pitfalls is the North City Congress Police-
Community Relations Program of North Philadelphia.^ This was a thirty-
month long program. Major elements were district committees, police institute
sessions involving some 1,300 officers, community workshops involving some
4,900 residents, and inter-group sessions attended by a mixture of 2,300 police
' The President's Commission on Law Enforcement and Administration of
Justice, A National Survey of Police and Community Relations, Field Surveys V
(Washington, D. C: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1967); J. H. Slotnick,
The Police and the Urban Ghetto. Research Contributions of the American Bar
Association, No. 3 (Chicago: American Bar Association, 1968).
'^ North City Congress Police-Community Relations Program: Final Report
(Philadelphia: North City Congress, 1969).
80
and local residents. Other activities included in-school workshops and a wide
variety of other meetings. The program also included a research unit which
carried out an evaluation of the program.
The program was extremely complex, and unlike the case with the third
example, documentation of the effort and outcome is great. As a consequence,
summary of the program is far more difficult.
Because of the significance of the program and the pessimism of conclu-
sions drawn, the final report of the program should be read by anyone setting
out on the police-community relations path. The report concludes that the
program failed and that it did so because the mechanisms used — based on
"community organization" theory — could not meaningfully affect the power
imbalance that produces the problem of police-community relations in the
first place.
Two major specific areas of failure are identified. The community com-
mittees did not persist generally after the end of the program. Thus, the ef-
fort to create a permanent structure in the community did not succeed. More
significantly, however, the report concludes that attempts to change police
attitudes failed. The police participants did not seem generally to value the
training. This was especially true of the white officers.
Perhaps the most general conclusion of the authors of the report is the
following:
Correcting the police-community power imbalance is crucial in any hopes for im-
proved police-community relations. And in the absence of fairly strenuous social
change, this imbalance cannot be corrected without the allocation of some authority
over police action to the community. There must be some form of "community
control" over Departmental policy-making, and particularly over District policy,
procedures and personnel.^
The conclusions clearly indicate the disillusionment of the program staff.
They also indicate the shift from a civil rights movement orientation to
a more "militant" one. In a sense, this program and the Washington, D. C,
Pilot Precinct Project which will be discussed next indicate different periods
in the history of local politics in large-city black ghettos.
The conclusions drawn in the North City Congress report will appeal to
readers of the report differently, depending on their ideological bents. Some
program features are open to criticism, however, even from the more routine
point of view of the mechanics of program implementation.
The most general criticism is in the approach to the police. Through no
fault of the program, support by key middle-level command was lacking even
though the program had at least rhetorical support from top command.
Moreover, it seems from the report that program staff were not particularly
' Ibid., p. 86.
knowledgeable about police nor were they likely to be identifiable as sympa-
thetic to police viewpoints.
Ironically, the North City Congress effort seems to have been formed by
a rather more "radical" viewpoint and to have ended with a more "conserva-
tive" result as compared with the next example which seems to have had
somewhat more of a "police-oriented" viewpoint but, thus far at least, seems
to have set in motion more "radical" change.
The third example is the Pilot Precinct Project instituted in Washington,
D. C, with an eighteen-month grant from the Office of Economic
Opportunity.
The project had several major components. The most innovative was the
idea of a Precinct Citizens' Board. The political thrust of this part of the
proposal is indicated by the following: (a) the board would be representative
of all the people of the precinct; (b) the board would not be handpicked by
the "establishment" but would be formed by methods suggested by residents
of the precinct, i.e., through a general election or whatever means would
guarantee a really representative board; (c) the success of the project would
be absolutely dependent on the development of a good relationship between
the board, the Metropolitan Police Department, and the staff of the Pilot
Precinct Project.* One of the criteria of success of the project was stated to
be whether board members felt they had real influence. The Citizens' Board
would "carry the weight of organized, representative public opinion."
This conception of the Precinct Citizens' Board then is quite different
from the neighborhood committees described in the North City Congress pro-
gram. Indeed, it seems a step in the direction of "community power" as
recommended in the final report of that project. The dilemmas of "reformist"
devolution of power are illustrated, however, by the statement that the
Precinct Citizens' Board would not have direct control over police operations.
Its members would not be able to give orders to police officers, and it would
not have the power to hire and fire policemen.^
Other aspects of the program included the idea of Satellite Service Cen-
ters - — the number, nature, function, location, and staffing of which would
be determined by the Precinct Citizens' Board. Funds were available, in addi-
tion, for other programs in the precinct, the nature of which was to be deter-
mined by the board.
A police training program was included and was to have been influenced
by board decisions. It was conceived, however, as more directly determined
by the project staff and, indeed, was conducted systematically even though
after almost nine months no Precinct Citizens' Board was in existence.
*The Pilot Precinct Project (Washington, D.G.: Corporation Counsel, Govern-
ment of the District of Columbia, no date).
° The President's Commission, op. cit.; Slotnick, op. cit.
The Precinct Citizens' Board idea was central to the whole program con-
cept, and its fate has so far been central to project histor}-. Description of
outcome thus far will focus on the process of creating the board. Training,
with one interruption of four months, has proceeded and some impressionistic
assessment of "success" can be made.
The history of the project to date can be largely written as the history of
one example of the peculiar politics of police-community relations projects
in a large urban black population. The history available here can only be
sketchy. A full histor>' of the project is being prepared and should be ex-
tremely valuable. Much of the information used here comes from an interview
with a former participant and should be regarded as quite provisional.
The first step in project implementation was selection of the precinct. The
aim was a precinct selected by citizens rather than the "power structure." A
Precinct Selection Committee of thirty-nine members was appointed by the
mayor to make the choice. Five members resigned soon after committee
formation and were replaced by six youths drawTi from the eligible precincts.
Precinct selection criteria included many factors : crime rates, measures of
povert)', size of youth population, complaints against police, receptivity of
police to the project, and receptivity of citizens.
These last two criteria indicate the uniqueness of this project — par-
ticularly the criterion of receptivity of the police. This indicates a quite dif-
ferent approach to police than seems implicit in the North City Congress
project. Police receptivity was measured by a direct vote of police officers on
whether they wanted the project in their precinct. Citizen receptivity was
assessed by a series of hearings at which those present voted. In all six precincts
a majority voted in favor of the project. In the Thirteenth Precinct which was
finally selected by the committee, only two people voted — both in favor.
The rather dry language of one document indicates something of the future
course of events. "It may be that the other people present at the hearing
\vere afraid to vote because an opponent of the project was standing by the
ballot box with a lighted match in his hand, stating in strong teiTns his
opinion of anyone who would vote for a project like this."^
After precinct selection, the next steps were to be taken by the project
staff. These included meetings between staff and resident groups and an
intensive public information campaign. This phase ^vas to have concluded
with formation of a Planning Committee which would come "from all the
groups and neighborhoods" of the precinct. This Planning Committee, in
turn, was to create the conditions for election of the Precinct Citizens' Board.
Approximately nine months were consumed before the necessary com-
munity election could be held. Early attempts at creating a working coalition
'^ Corporation Counsel, op. cit., p. 5.
83
of community groups were frustrated by the opposition of what are described
as "militants." An earlier coalition of older, more "middle-class" blacks was
opposed by the "militants" who were supported by influential leaders of the
local O.E.O. agency, civil rights groups, and others.
Some three to four months of negotiation followed, during which the
police precincts were consolidated into districts in an administrative reorgani-
zation. An attempt to organize an election was unsuccessful during this time
because the project stafT was accused of engineering the consolidation to
undermine the political strength of the opposition. Another attempt to hold
an election came to naught when the "militants" threatened to prevent an
election and to disrupt planning and election meetings.
At this point the project staff suggested proceeding without an election,
but the city government said to try again. In this next try the Pilot Precinct
Project StafT undertook to see that meetings would not be "packed" and to
guarantee the personal safety of persons attending the planning meeting. A
planning meeting was finally held at which police were present to verify cre-
dentials and prevent disorder. At that meeting some twelve of the approxi-
mately seventy present attempted to disrupt and partially did so.
Finally, however, the "militants" agreed to participate in election planning
and an election date was set. At this point the project director resigned, thus
removing himself as an election issue. The election was held; the "militants"
gained control of the Citizens' Board and an opponent of the project was
elected board chairman.
Despite this seeming victory for the "opposition," the board has formulated
what has been described as a good proposal for continuation of the project.
The project's political vicissitudes continue, however, at other levels. The
Precinct Citizens' Board is now fighting for itself and for the project against
a Congressional investigation. Moreover, the funding agency has renewed
funding for only thirty days pending . . . what? The city government backs
the project completely.
Meanwhile, the actual training sessions involving precinct police and local
citizens were undertaken. Training was interrupted in April, 1969; it resumed
in September of 1969, and continues at present. To date approximately 375
officers and citizens have participated. Training is on duty time, with the
project paying for overtime of other officers to maintain coverage. Training
sessions have emphasized role-playing, small-group discussion and confronta-
tion involving police, and "street dudes" and "young militant" blacks.
As yet there is no formal study of the impact of the training or other parts
of the program. There is evidence, however, that the training program was
ultimately well received by the police. When the director resigned, a letter
commending him is reported to have received over 200 signatures- — before
someone tore it up! Initial reception by rank-and-file officers was suspicious.
84
and training sessions uncovered the usual resistances though they proceeded
fairly smoothly. Cooperation by middle-level command was described as good,
perhaps due to the fact that the project director was well known to the
lieutenants and sergeants, having spent a great deal of time on the streets with
them. The support of the city government and the placement of key project
staff as employees of the Department of Public Safety may have helped here.
In addition to the director, other stafT members had had experience with
police (some had been policemen) and have been described as critical but
knowledgeable.
Feedbacks between the training part of the project and the political
process involved in election of the Precinct Citizens' Board must have been
complex, but only two have been described. The interruption in the training
previously mentioned was caused by the "disruption" in the political process.
In another instance, an achievement of the training program seems to have
created an embarrassment to anti-project forces in the precinct.
Members of the Spanish-speaking community demanded Spanish-speak-
ing officers. Some 150 officers volunteered for an intensive six-week language
and cultural immersion program that was received very well both by the offi-
cers and by the Spanish-speaking citizenry. The success of this special pro-
gram seems to have operated to demonstrate the good faith of the project as
well as its ability to deliver a product of value. As a consequence, the anti-
project black leaders were confronted with demands from their constitutents
to moderate their opposition.
It is difficult to compare the Washington and North City projects, par-
ticularly since the Washington project is still going on and information is
so sketchy. It is helpful to hazard some comparative interpretation, however.
An obvious interpretation would be that the North City project had
trouble with the police while the Washington, D. C, project had trouble
with the community. This would be rather short-sighted. The "troubles"
with the community in Washington, D. C, may represent a necessary and
constructive political process of creating sufficient local awareness and political
"texture" that a meaningful community voice could be developed. Programs
that include local citizens' bodies and do not expect a virulent local politics
are not likely to succeed, particularly in the larger cities. From this point of
view (and from a great distance), the "disruptive" concerns of the "mili-
tants" and the seeming short-sightedness of their allies may take on a different
light. The business of politics after all is to present alternatives and to create
the collective vehicles for meaningful participation in decision-making.
It seems clear that the Washington project dealt with the police in a
much more sophisticated way. This stems from the nature of the project staff
as previously mentioned, from the support of the city government, and from
a viewpoint that defined individual policemen as among those who should
have a voice in the location of the project.
There are also other elements that seem significant about the Washington
program. Washington, D. C, is after all demographically a predominantly
black city with a black mayor. Police-community relations politics will surely
be different in such a setting.
Finally, the structure of the program in Washington seems to have been
sociologically more sophisticated. The selection of a single precinct made
a more manageable unit. As the final report of the North City Congress
project points out. North Philadelphia was simply too large. Moreover, the
mode of selecting police participants from different districts and different imits
meant that there was little sense of organizational commonality among them.
We can conclude with one very serious problem in both projects — the
problem of short-term grant support. The threat of fund withdrawal or
nonrenewal hangs over these programs like the proverbial sword of Damocles.
This is hardly the appropriate fiscal basis for stable, long-term social change.
THE KERNER REPORT AND THE MASS MEDIA
GENE GRAHAM
Part I
Two years beyond the city riots of 1967 and the report about them by the
National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders, the effect of the mass media
on such disorders is still under intense debate. There is no great risk in pre-
dicting that as long as unrest persists, those who presume to "inform and
educate" the public about such disorder through "fair and courageous journal-
ism" are unlikely to win popularity prizes.
The terms encased in quotation marks above are used advisedly, for they
are borrowed right out of the so-called Kerner Commission Report and lie at
the heart of the two major criticisms it leveled at news media coverage (par-
ticularly television) of the 1967 urban riots. We shall deal with those criticisms
shortly, but it should first be acknowledged and understood that by no means
all of the public accepts the Kerner Commission's underlying presumption
that to inform and educate the people about the ills of society are proper
missions of the news media. To inform, yes, but to educate implies something
more. And while the modem journalistic fraternity almost unanimously ac-
cepts this dual notion of its mission, there is ample evidence that large seg-
ments of the populace not only reject that presumption, but resent it. Some,
of course, do not even wish to be informed of unpleasantries.
As for "fair and courageous journalism," in such circumstances, there
obviously is no such thing except by one's own definition. A society that has
turned a condition of light polarization into a heated cliche of politics is
hardly in a mood to accept any individual or group definition of those
terms. What is courageous for Senator McGovern is clearly unfair on Vice
President Agnew's front page or tube, and vice versa. One can magnify that
generalization to a number of powers when applying it to sensitive racial
matters covered by the Kerner study's Chapter 15, which deals with highly
visible news media, their effect on the riots, and what they ought to be doing
about them.
Well, what is their effect? And well, what ought the media to be doing
about riots and other civil explosions?
The answer to the first of these questions is that nobody knows, and the
87
answer to the second depends upon the prejudices of the respondent. Take
the first :
"The question is far reaching and a sure answer is beyond the range of
presently available scientific techniques," said the Commission at the outset of
Chapter 15. "Our conclusions and recommendations are based upon sub-
jective as well as objective factors ; interviews as well as statistics ; isolated ex-
amples as well as general trends."
Or, if you prefer, "Tonight I've raised questions. I've made no attempt
to suggest the answers," said Vice President Agnew at the conclusion of his
now-famous Des Moines treatise on television news. "The answers must come
from the media men."
Those media men, who must answer the second question — How do you
cover riots and such? - — may search vainly for guidance between such highly-
charged rhetorical questions-suggesting-no-answers as this one from the Vice
President :
"How many marches and demonstrations would we have if the marchers
did not know that the ever-faithful TV cameras would be there to record their
antics for the next news show?" (Emphasis mine. )
And conclusions like this one from the Commission :
We believe it would be imprudent and even dangerous to downplay coverage
in the hope that censored reporting of inflammatory incidents somehow will
diminish violence.
All this is not meant to provide "cop-out" or apology for the media, whose
sins are legion, but to suggest the tormenting ambivalences that beset anyone
— inside the trade or out^ — who attempts to recommend a firm course for
newsmen to follow in the performance of whatever their duty might be, a
certain already-noted ambivalence surrounding even that.
The Kemer Commission understandably got caught in a number of such
internal conflicts, therefore, and this greatly reduced the value of its sug-
gestions. For example, having judged that it might even be dangerous to
censor reporting of inflammatory incidents, the Commission noted, with
obvious approval, that participants at its Poughkeepsie conference "admitted
that live television coverage via helicopter of the 1965 Watts riot had been
inflammatory, and network news executives expressed doubts that television
would ever again present live coverage of a civil disorder." In the future, it
was suggested, they would view and edit (not censor?) taped or filmed
sequences before broadcasting them. Yet it was the editing of tape that
brought such criticisms of TV coverage of the Chicago convention, the next
mass incident of civil disorder beyond the urban riots of 1967 and those that
followed Martin Luther King's assassination in April, 1968.
88
Vice President Agnew said :
Film of provocations of police that was available never saw the light of day
while the film of a police response which the protesters provoked was shown to
millions. Another network showed virtually the same scene of violence from three
separate angles without making clear it was the same scene.
Indeed, the entire question of press-police relations provides every analyst
of civil disorder a full range of ambivalent feelings. The Kerner Commission
again was no exception and therefore had little help to offer the media in this
intensely important aspect of news coverage. One reads the Kerner Commis-
sion Report in this respect with mounting frustration. To overdigest it perhaps
does the Report injustice, but the overall impression is this :
First it suggests, quite correctly, that ghetto residents look upon the police
and the press as allies who work together toward the same end, adding paren-
thetically that this may surprise both reporters and policemen. Later it notes
that the two do work closely together and for obvious media reasons (protec-
tion). Then, at the point of recommendations, the Report concludes that "a
recurrent problem in the coverage of last summer's disorders was friction and
lack of cooperation between police officers and working reporters" and sug-
gests a mutual orientation program to bring them together. Meanwhile,
although "our studies suggest that reporters are already too closely tied to
police and officials as news sources in a disorder," the Commission recom-
mends an official information center to be located at police headquarters or
city hall to serve both police and newsmen. The rhetoric used to reconcile
all this on-again, off -again relationship sounds plausible enough. ("An in-
formation center should not be permitted to intensify this [police-press] de-
pendence.") But what it all boils down to is that the Commission wants the
police and press to work together, but not too closely; be antagonistic, pre-
sumably for ghetto benefit, but not too antagonistic; and centralize informa-
tion, but not centralize it too much. This comes back to the traditional love-
hate relationship that has existed forever.
There should be some understanding, therefore, if so little has been done
in implementing these rather schizophrenic recommendations. Some of them
have been tried. Chicago, I believe, was credited with cooling a potential
riot by close informational control and what has for years been close coopera-
tion between police and press. But those past relationships did not hold up,
as everyone knows, when the circumstances of the disorder were altered and
the protesters were angry young middle-class whites instead of ghetto blacks.
Every newsman of my acquaintance who participated in coverage of the cele-
brated Democratic convention there last year considers that the "police riot,"
as it was so controversially characterized by the Walker study, was in consider-
able measure directed against the media, its men, and their most devastating
tool — the camera.
89
The growing militance of policemen, and the dangerously widening rift
between them and the media is everywhere known. In Boston, where the
Globe has editorialized against police actions on occasion, an attempted boy-
cott was mounted last summer. Building takeovers and mini-riots at Harvard
and MIT have driven deeper wedges between those charged with maintaining
order and those who report the maintenance breakdowns. The younger the
reporter assigned— and how else does one plumb the feelings of youth?— the
wider the rift and the deeper the emotions. That same divisiveness, along
generational lines, is occurring in Chicago as elsewhere in the metropolitan
centers of the nation. It is worse, I judge, on the coasts.
This particular problem might well be unresponsive to any suggestions at
this juncture, but the Kemer Commission recommendations have been of
little or no value and will not be, in my view, in so long as have-cake-and-
eat-it-too solutions are pursued.
Part II
The Kemer Commission, following its exhaustive study of the urban riots
of 1967, came to three conclusions with respect to the media's role:
First, . . . despite incidents of sensationalism, inaccuracies, and distortions, news-
papers, radio and television, on the whole, made a real effort to give a balanced,
factual account of the 1967 disorders.
Second, despite this effort, the portrayal of the violence that occurred last sum-
mer failed to reflect accurately its scale and character. The overall effect was, we
believe, an exaggeration of both mood and event.
Third, and ultimately most important, we believe that the media have thus far
failed to report adequately on the causes and consequences of civil disorders and
the underlying problems of race relations.
Out of these three general conclusions, with which few in the media
would quarrel, flowed the specific criticisms and recommendations the Com-
mission made. How many of these specifics have the media accepted and
how many of its recommendations are being implemented?
In the first instance. Conclusion No. 1 above is hardly a criticism; in fact,
it is almost the highest compliment that can be paid a professional in the
business of gathering and reporting news — that he "made a real effort to
give a balanced, factual account. . . ." Nevertheless, the industry has moved
through a wide range of activities and techniques designed to minimize if not
eliminate admitted incidents of "sensationalism, inaccuracies and distortions"
noted by the Commission. It is encouraging, to begin with, to recognize that
many of these isolated incidents came to the attention of the Commission
through the media, some as a result of self-policing and some from cases of
one media reporting on another. This practice has continued. A Washington
Post reporter, for example, eyewitnessed and fully reported the incredible be-
havior of a TV cameraman in coaching a black to toss a rock and otherwise
stunt for his lenses.
Riot conditions, it should be understood, do not offer ideal conditions
for establishing fact. The event itself is hardly without sensation; and re-
porting a riot, like reporting a war, resembles the fable of the blind men
describing the elephant. "Inaccuracies," then, are often differing vantage
points, and distortions are sometimes related to the varying pulse rates of
fearful men under fire. Large team-reporting methods, experience, and wiser
editors have eaten away the margin of error since the first riots caught all
but a tiny band from the larger news-gathering establishments flat-footed.
Throughout the country, even in small and medium-sized cities which have
encountered racial strife, seminars and self-evaluating media groups have met
with public officials and black leaders, militant to moderate, in an eflfort to
review coverage errors and establish communications. My impression is that
this has not happened as often as it should in cities which have somehow
escaped disorder.
Some of these cooperative efforts, however, pre-dated the Kerner Com-
mission Report by a couple of years. In Boston, the Community Media
Committee dates from June, 1966, when Celtic superstar Bill Russell, pre-
dicting "Boston could blow up this summer," called for formation of the
committee. Publishers and editors and managing editors of all the Boston
newspapers and station managers and news directors of every one of its local
TV and radio stations appeared at that meeting, and all have since partici-
pated in a permanent program. About 40 from the media and some 20 from
the black community attended that first meeting. And while there have been
breakdowns from time to time, the program continues in seminars and work-
shops, conferences, and plan visitations designed to familiarize ghetto dwellers
with the inner workings of the media (from which springs much misunder-
standing) and to educate the media in the inner workings of ghetto life
(ditto) .
Similar efforts in many other cities, such as South Bend, Indiana, got
underway only after riots occurred, if somewhat before the Kerner Com-
mission Report reached print. South Bend had major troubles, lost in the
overpowering headlines of Detroit, but no less serious for it, and involving the
same though scaled-down dynamics.
It is difficult, however, to evaluate the implementation of Kerner Com-
mission recommendations on how to improve riot coverage so as to avoid
the criticisms of its second conclusion, e.g., that media coverage inaccurately
reflected the scale and character of the riots and thus produced an overall
effect that was "an exaggeration of both mood and event." The scale,
character, and mood of riots are subjective matters at best; that being so,
there was little else the Commission could suggest but the formulation of
guidelines for covering such disorders. These guidelines presupposed a deeper,
more sophisticated and understanding coverage of these events which would
result in better evaluations of scope and scale and mood. Police-press relation-
ships heretofore discussed also were established in this connection.
As for guidelines, most major news organizations had long since adopted
general guides for staffers, as the Commission noted ; and professional organi-
zations which have since approached or discussed the subject of some sort
of universal standard have quickly rejected such a notion, often with consider-
able hostility. Differing news organizations with widely differing problems
have preferred, almost without exception, to work out their own specialized
rules. Unquestionably, though, the riots of 1967 and the Kerner Report
stimulated many smaller news organizations which had not given the matter
much thought to hold staff meetings and discussions leading to riot-condition
guidelines.
Presumably, based on complaints or the scarcity of such, the major and
metropolitan news organizations learned well the lessons of 1967 even before
they had time to study the Kerner Report deeply. The Report was issued
in March, 1968; the ink was not dry when, in April, the Memphis murder of
Martin Luther King touched off the greatest wave of urban riots in American
history. Perhaps study commissions were too exhausted or too limited in
resources to explore media coverage of eruptions in more than 100 cities.
Washington and Chicago were hardest hit. But few criticisms, few charges
of distortion or inaccuracy or sensationalism, few claims of exaggerated mood
or scale or character followed the King riots. No one so much as suggested
that the rioters were performing their antics for the ever-faithful TV cameras;
nor that, somehow, were the latter to cap their lenses and leave, the former
would steal along home.
Part III
Dr. King's assassination made the Kerner Commission Report a best-
seller. Coming less than a month behind the Report's issuance, the death
of the martyred disciple of nonviolence touched off, besides fresh riots, a
great deal of white soul-searching. The media weltered in guilt along with
the nation; perhaps it gave them time to read the third conclusion of the
Kerner Report:
. . . Ultimately most important, we believe that the media have thus far failed
to report adequately on the causes and consequences of civil disorders and the
underlying problems of race relations.
How better to cover a riot became, for a season, a moot point; how to
avoid one far more vital. The recommendations of the Kerner group in this
respect were without question the best formulated ones, the most constructive
ones, and certainly the "most important." And it is in following these recom-
92
mendations that the media have done the best job. The Commission had
said of them:
They have not communicated to the majority of their audience — which is
white — a sense of the degradation, misery, and hopelessness of living in the ghetto.
They have not communicated to whites a feeling for the difficulties and frustrations
of being a Negro in the United States. They have not shown understanding or
appreciation of — and thus have not communicated — a sense of Negro culture,
thought or history. . . .
Reports on ghetto living and poverty sprang up everywhere.
The Commission continued:
Far too often, the press acts and talks about Negroes as if Negroes do not read
newspapers or watch television, give birth, marry, die, and go to PTA meetings.
Some newspapers and stations are beginning to make efTorts to fill this void, but they
ha\e still a long way to go.
An honest judgment would have to conclude, two years later, that "they
have still a long way to go," but tremendous progress has been made none-
theless. The summer of 1968 saw a spate of media treatments of black history,
black culture, biography, art, fashions, etc., etc. The subjects appeared in
special newspaper supplements, special TV productions, magazines galore,
on radio, billboards, books. Black proliferated in the entertainment and com-
mercial faces of tube and slickprint as well as in the news. And while the
University of Illinois scoured the country for qualified blacks for a "Project
500," practically every northern metropolitan publisher was scouring uni-
versities for black summer interns and black journalists who, a season before,
had found the "pickin's" as scarce as the publishers now found them.
There are, therefore, two separate faces to the Kemer recommendations
with respect to blacks in the media — reports on blacks and reports hy
blacks. Recruiting sufficient manpower to do the latter offers more hope and
is the area, it seems to me, where more progress is being made and even more
emphasis needs to be placed. For the training of black journalists ultimately
will assure adequate and reliable reports on black activities which have been,
and continue to be, in short supply. And in this, one must refer primarily to
the day-to-day reports having to do with Negroes who "give birth, marr)', die
and go to PTA meetings" rather than with either the flamboyant, catch-up
reporting on all the lapses in history, art, personalities, and so on, of the past
200 years, or "the degradation, misery, and hopelessness of living in the
ghetto."
It is entirely possibly that there has been too much of the latter, indeed,
despite the Commission's feelings. Poverty and the reporting on same, after
all, were not exactly new when the Kemer Commission was formed, and any
search of the media will find considerable evidence of both before Michael
Harrington's Other America discovery. It is a myth that Harrington also dis-
covered poverty.
93
Moreover, there are risks involved in the over-reporting of degrading
matters. One of the more important of these risks is what social scientists
Paul Lazarsfeld and Robert Merton have called "narcotizing dysfunction."
That is the process, as I understand it, through which people mistakenly con-
vince themselves they have actually done something about social ills simply
because they've read so much about them. And resentments rise inside the
privacy-invaded ghetto as well as across town where the low-income white
struggles to make ends meet.
To say the least, there is reason to suspect that a young black journalist is
more to be trusted on ghetto affairs than affluent white reporters with college
degrees and more idealism than racial "savvy." That type of journalist is
fast on the way, thanks in part to the Kerner Report.
The media may have rejected the Commission's suggestion of an Institute
of Urban Communications, but the important thing is it did not reject the
primary purposes. Presumably, it felt that there were sufficient professional
agencies and organizations already (not to mention journalism schools) to
train, recruit, and place black journalists; to conduct research; and to review
media performance on riots and racial issues. And the rationale for its pro-
posed urban affairs service, something of a news service specializing in urban
reporting, appeared singularly anemic.
Indeed, many of the Institute's proposed functions were already being
provided elsewhere or were quickly absorbed by long-existing agencies. In
June, the New York Urban Coalition established a pilot national program to
help members of minority groups find editorial jobs in the communications
industries. The plan, called the Communications Skill Bank, is recruiting
candidates across the country for editorial jobs on newspapers, magazines,
radio and television stations, and in advertising, publishing, and public rela-
tions. The Bank serves as a clearing house for minority-group members look-
ing for such positions, providing a centralized source of editorial talent among
Negroes, Puerto Ricans, and other members of minority groups to the media.
Ford Foundation money went into the Washington Journalism Center,
specifically earmarked for training blacks. Thus, of the 20 young Fellowship
newsmen enrolled there this year, exactly 10 are black and so is the new
Associate Director, Clarence Hunter. Other Ford funds went to Columbia
University for a summer journalism training project through which more
mature Negroes, once unable to pursue reporting careers, could be retrained
to do so. Professor Howard ZifT, of the University of Illinois, was among
the project supervisors last summer. Still more Ford money is behind the
Urban Affairs reporting center at Northwestern's Medill School of Journalism.
The Newspaper Fund, in cooperation with local newspapers and journal-
ism departments, sponsored four month-long journalism workshops for urban
ghetto youths last summer at Washington, D.C., Detroit, Athens, Ohio, and
Plainfield, New Jersey. In May, the American Newspaper Publishers Associa-
tion awarded $15,075 in grants-in-aid to 29 college students under its Negro
journalism scholarship fund. In November, Sigma Delta Chi, national jour-
nalistic society, urged continuation of this program and its extension to
Mexican-Americans, Oriental-Americans, American Indians, and other minor-
ity groups. Simultaneously, it adopted a resolution calling for its own minority-
group training program in addition to its sponsorship of the Washington
Center.
This is only a fraction of the programs, should one count the scores of
intern setups operated by individual newspapers, television stations, magazines,
and publishing houses. (The one with which I have been associated at the
Boston Globe for four years had no blacks in 1966, one in 1967, six in 1968,
and eight in 1969; and I have noted, in professional journals, similar stepups
in other programs). The black news committee of the Associated Press
Managing Editors Association is pitching a training program to the lower
levels — a high school prep affair.
A number of blacks have finally cracked into the heretofore denied circle
of news executives; and the American Society of Newspaper Editors, this
year, had its first black member of the board of directors.
Perhaps even more hopeful is a discovery the Kemer Commission sug-
gested: the American media are finding the black potential customer as his
concentration in central cities grows. Thus, Tuesday, a black-owned
and edited supplement for core city distribution with existing metropolitan
newspapers grew to a circulation base of 2,000,000 this year. In Kansas City,
an industrious group of young blacks set up Black Light, Inc., an all-black
newspaper feature syndicate distributing ghetto-oriented comics and humor.
Recounted in such fashion, this sounds like very much; in the context
of the entire media picture it is not spectacular, but it does indicate progress.
There is considerable apprehension that the sudden drive sparked by Martin
Luther King's death and the riots might splutter somewhat in the absence of
crisis, but it may be unfair to make so early a judgment. My own personal
impression is that, while the media serving national and large urban centers
have moved ahead steadily in all aspects of the Kemer recommendations,
medium-sized and small city operations have done rather less than little.
Illinois has quite a large number of these "middle-sized daily" cities, and in
my limited contacts with them, I have encountered no black reporters or
editors. Chicago, of the large metropolitan centers, also seems to lag behind
other comparable markets. But it must be acknowledged that, until last year,
the University of Illinois was hardly in a position to supply one trained black
journalist, had one of our own state customers come looking.
The university journalism program lags in this respect, too, because it
does not enroll students before the junior year and the first 500 freshmen ar-
rived last year. Wait till next year.
95
STATE LEGISLATIVE REACTION TO THE KERNCR COMMISSION REPORT:
THE CASE OF ILLINOIS
THOA\AS KITSOS and JOSEPH PISCIOTTE
State involvement in the fate of urban America is as vital as the involvement of the
National Government. . . . Should the States fail to meet this challenge (the urban
crisis), should they fail to reassert their responsibility and maintain their pivotal
position in the partnership triangle, they may fatally erode federalism's foundations.'
Introduction
The general lack of responsiveness of state governments to the growing
crisis in their cities has caused considerable concern among academicians,
journalists, and some public officials. The situation is so acute that presently
a big city mayor's first inclination is to seek help from Washington rather
than from his state government.
The increasing number of direct federal-city relationships provides evi-
dence that the national government is perceived, with some justification, as
being more attuned than state governments to the needs of urban areas.
On the other hand, broad research has not focused on the deterioration of
state-city relationships or state "nonresponsiveness." Essentially, studies have
been piecemeal in nature; each piece has added to an increasingly serious
picture of the legal and structural apparatus of state governmental machinery
as more of a liability than an asset in solving contemporary urban problems.
This paper is an attempt to add another "piece" to the picture. Its major
focus is on a specification of the impact of the Kerner Commission Report
on the Illinois General Assembly. In other words, it is an attempt to deter-
mine whether the legislature in Illinois responded to the findings of the
Report.
It is particularly appropriate to examine what happened in Illinois.
Illinois is not only a major industrial state with concomitant racial problems,
but it is also the home state of the chairman of the National Advisory Com-
mission on Civil Disorders. The governor of Illinois plays an extremely im-
portant role in the state's legislative process through his budget and veto
powers and his role as chief executive. He also has a vital part to play in
'Advisory Commission on Intergovernmental Relations, Urban America and the
Federal System (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1969), p. 105.
97
regard to the initiation and support of legislation. The legislative output
in Illinois can be analyzed as largely the result of a matrix of relationships
involving the governor, the executive departments, and the legislature.
Illinois is the fourth largest state in the country in terms of population.
It contains the nation's second largest city; although it is a manufacturing
and industrial center, downstate Illinois has some of the richest farm land
in the Midwest. According to the 1960 census, 10.3 per cent of the state's
citizens are nonwhite. The two major pockets of nonwhite concentration are
in Chicago and East St. Louis, although many other Illinois cities contain
significant Negro communities. In fact, Illinois presents good evidence that
racial conflict is not necessarily limited to major urban areas. The city of
Cairo (population: 8,500) has experienced some of the most violent distur-
bances in this country in the last year. Illinois has had its share of racial
trouble (recently and historically) ; in many respects the state is a microcosm
of the social and economic conditions discussed in the Kerner Commission
Report.
Before analyzing the state's response to the findings of the Kerner Com-
mission, it is necessary to point out that the Report was not a report to the
Illinois General Assembly. (Indeed one wonders to whom the report was di-
rected.) This adds to the problem of interpretation. Essentially the dilemma
is this: what references to state governments did the Commission make and,
given this, what response could reasonably be expected from a state legisla-
ture? Intermixed with these questions is the definitional problem of what
constitutes a legislative response to the Report. Finally, to what extent did
the Illinois General Assembly react to the findings and recommendations of
the Report? The following sections address themselves to these questions.
Part I
In our federal system, one might have expected that all levels of govern-
ment would be prominently mentioned in the Report as necessary agents for
broad social change. In point of fact, however, the Commission members
(and staff) apparently did not feel that state governments were viable instru-
ments for solving racial problems. (One is again reminded that the chairman
of the Commission was a sitting governor of a highly urbanized state).
The text of the Report presents some interesting omissions. Included in
Part III ("What Can Be Done"), there was a chapter entitled "The Com-
munity Response." But there was no chapter designated "The State Response"
or "What State Governments Can Do." Chapter 17 of the Report is devoted
to "Recommendations for National Action." Again, there was no comparable
chapter directed to the states.
An Inventory of Commission References to State Governments
The Commission lamented the lack of program coordination at the na-
tional level and the presence of parochialism at the state level — both of which
add up to a kind of "nonpolicy" for race problems.
Instrumentalities of federal and state governments often compound . . . (race)
problems. National policy expressed through a very large number of grant programs
and institutions rarely exhibits a coherent and consistent perspective when viewed at
the local level. State efforts, traditionally focused on rural areas, often fail to tie in
effectively with either local or federal programs in urban areas.^
In order to carry out some of its recommendations, the Commission noted
that city governments will require state and federal support. More specifically,
the Commission urged :
In the face of the bewildering proliferation of both community demands and local,
state, and federal programs, mayors and city councils need to create new mecha-
nisms to aid in decision-making, program-planning, and coordination. At this time,
however, no assistance is available to develop these new and critically necessary
institutional capabilities or to support the required research, consultants, staff, or
other vital components of administrative or legislative competence.
The Commission recommends, therefore, that both the state and federal govern-
ments provide financial assistance to cities for these purposes as a regular part of
all urban program funding.'
In perhaps its strongest statement, the Commission took cognizance of
the important part state government must play in assisting the urban mayor
in his thankless job.
. . . (State government) must equip city leadership with the jurisdictional tools to
deal with its problems. It must provide a fuller measure of financial and other
resources to urban areas. Most importantly, state leadership is in a unique position
to focus the interests and growing resources, political as well as financial, of the
suburbs on the physical, social, and cultural environment of the central cities. The
crisis confronting city government today cannot be met without regional cooperation.
This cooperation can take many forms — metropolitan government, regional plan-
ning, joint endeavors. It must be a principal goal, perhaps the overriding concern,
of leadership at the state level to fashion a lasting and mutually productive rela-
tionship between city and suburban areas.^
In its call for national action (Chapter 17), the Commission made scat-
tered references to the states in its recommendations on employment, educa-
tion, and welfare.
Employment. In the section on employment, the Commission concerned
itself with essentially administrative and coordinative activities of state govern-
ments. The Report recommended:
'Report of the National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders (New York:
Bantam Books, 1968), p. 283.
' Ibid., p. 293.
* Ibid., p. 299.
99
Existing programs aimed at recruiting, training, and job development should be
consolidated according to the function they serve at the local, state, and federal
levels, to avoid fragmentation and duplication.'^
The Commission also urged the strengthening of federal, state, and local
efforts to ensure equal opportunity in emplo)TTient. The specifics of this
recommendation dealt with such federal-level laws and agencies as the 1964
Civil Rights Act and the Equal Emplo\Tnent Opportunity Commission (the
federal enforcement agency under Title VII of the 1964 Act) . No explicit
recommendations for state action were made.
Welfare. The section on welfare discusses the problems associated \vith
the welfare system in general and the ramifications of the "Labyrinth" of
federal, state, and local legislation in particular. Because this was a federal-
level commission and because welfare is essentially a federal function (more
than 90 per cent of national welfare payments are made through programs
that are partly or largely federally funded ) , this section generally calls for
Congressional action. Scattered throughout these pages, however, are some
explicit indictments of existing state regulations (e.g., the "Man-in-the-
House" rule, insensitive administration by some welfare workers, residency
requirements, etc.). Also a recognition of the constraints on the states' fiscal
capacities led the Commission to recommend far greater federal involvement.
A fuller discussion of the welfare recommendations of the Commission and
its applicability to Illinois is presented in Professor Taber's paper.
Education. The most direct statement calling for state action is con-
tained in the Commission's section on education. This is not surprising, since
education is still primarily a state and local function. The present system of
funding in most states came in for the greatest criticism from the members of
the Commission. In general, state aid fomiulas which were designed in an-
other era no^v tend to "reinforce existing inequities." Specifically, the Com-
mission recommended :
. . . that every state reexamine its present method of allocating funds to local school
districts, not merely to provide equal funds for all political subdivisions on a per-
pupil basis, but to assure more per-student aid to districts having a high proportion
of disadvantaged students. Only if equalization formulas reflect the need to spend
larger amounts per pupil in schools predominately populated by disadvantaged stu-
dents will state aid be allocated on an equitable basis.^
The Kerner Commission also addressed itself to the role of the state in
fostering integration in the educational system. The Report states:
... the states and, in particular, the state education agencies, have a key role to
play in accomplishing school integration. The states are in a unique position to
bring about urban-suburban cooperation and metropolitan planning. We urge that
the efforts of state educational agencies in this area be gi\en clear direction through
'Ibid., p. 415.
' Ibid., pp. 455-56.
adoption of state-vvdde, long-term integration plans and intensified through active
promotion of such plans.'
Two other references to state governments complete the inventory. In
Chapter 14, the Commission concerned itself with the problem of the avail-
ability of property insurance in the inner-city. It urged :
... the insurance industry to take the lead in establishing voluntary plans in all
states to assure all property owners fair access to property insurance. We look to the
states to cooperate with the industry in establishing these plans; and to supplement
the plans, to whatever extent may be necessary, by organizing insurance pools and
taking other steps to facilitate the insuring of urban core properties.*
Finally, in its supplementary chapter on the "Control of Disorder" (Part
IV), one section is devoted to "State Response to Civil Disorders." The Com-
mission dismissed the disorder-control effectiveness of state police forces be-
cause they are undermanned and undertrained in riot-control tactics. Much
greater emphasis was given to the National Guard. The Commission noted
that, although the performance of the Guard in Newark and Detroit left
something to be desired, it remains "the only organization with sufficient man-
power and appropriate organization and equipment which can materially
assist local police departments in riot control operations." The Commission
recommended that the Guard be given increased riot-control training; that
a review of the standards for Guard officers be implemented; and that the
number of blacks in the Guard be substantially increased. (In the introduc-
tion to the paperback version of the Report, Tom Wicker notes that integra-
tion of the Illinois Guard made substantial progress during Governor Kerner's
administration.)
Because of the dual nature of the Guard, jurisdictional lines of authority
are sometimes blurred. Suffice it to say that the states, through their gover-
nors, have some control over the Guard (unless it is called into federal ser-
vice) . Implementation of the Commission's recommendations can be carried
out, to a certain extent, by state government.
What Could Be Expected from the States?
Given the fact that the Kerner Commission Report was not a report to
the General Assembly and that it made very few direct appeals to states for
affirmative action, what could one reasonably expect from a state government
in response to the release of the Report?
The answer to this question probably reflects one's normative judgment.
Yet, the general thrust of the Commission's Report seems to transcend all
levels of our federal system. In other words, despite some technical jurisdic-
tional constraints, the content of the Report was of such dimension that all
levels of government could be expected to respond. This, then, is the major
' Ibid., p. 456.
'/6zW., p. 361.
underlying assumption of this paper; but it is an assumption based on some
rather sound arguments.
First, as the Report ably documents, certain groups in contemporary
society are questioning the very legitimacy of government. A lack of re-
sponsiveness to social and economic problems pervades federal, state, and
local government. One is hard put to argue that responsibility for attacking
racial discrimination (and its ramifications) in this country is solely within
the domain of the federal government.
Similarly, the language of the Commission's Report does not absolve the
states from responsibility for what happened in 1967 nor does it preclude
them from taking action on its recommendations. To be sure, some of the
Commission's recommendations Avere so vast in scope that priman' responsi-
bility must fall on the government with the broadest fiscal base and legal
authority. Funding for the welfare system would apply in this regard. Yet,
even here, the states could do a great deal to clear up jurisdictional inequities
and administrative insensitivities.
The precise role of state government in the construction of low-income
housing was never mentioned in the Report. But, as Professor Murray points
out in his paper, there is a vacuum of action available to the states to help
fund construction in their own area. Unfortunately, despite some minimal
activity in this regard, the results of state action have been less than im-
pressive.
These are but two of many possible examples in the Commission's Report
in which state governments could play a more active and responsive role in
the solution of racial problems. Indeed, in the true spirit of "creative fed-
eralism," such action is not only proper but imperative.
Finally, the Commission devoted a considerable number of pages to de-
veloping a matrix of strategies and programs for local units of government.
But the important legal relationship between states and their local govern-
ments was virtually ignored. Local governments are creatures of state gov-
ernments ; they owe their existence to state legislatures or to state constitutions.
Autonomy to act on the local level varies from state to state ; so-called "home-
rule" states tend to give their local governments somewhat greater jurisdic-
tional freedom and, in a few states, local units have some taxing powers.
However, most states (including Illinois) operate under "Dillon's Rule" —
the legal principle ^vhich holds that a local government can exercise only those
poAvers expressly granted or necessarily implied in its charter. Any reasonable
doubt about whether a local power exists is construed for the state and against
the local unit. For a city to take action, therefore, there must be an existing
state statute specifically authorizing such action or the city-fathers must go
to the state legislature and ask for passage of an appropriate bill.
In addition to jurisdictional restrictions, most local governments face
102
severe fiscal limitations. Property tax, the main source of revenue for local
governments, is characterized by inconsistent (and, on occasion, blatantly un-
fair and regressive) assessment and collection procedures. The revenue base
for many local governments is simply not broad enough to provide sufficient
funding for "social change" programs. There is increased recognition on the
part of many students of state and local government that the states must be
prepared to assume greater functional and fiscal responsibilities in their urban
areas.
The Commission's recommendations for local community programs and
reform must be considered against this background of legal and fiscal limita-
tions. The evidence seems to be clear: state governments must become deeply
involved in solving the problems created by "white racism."
Part III
Working under the assumption that the Illinois legislature should have
responded (in some fashion) to the Kerner Commission Report, some inputs
and outputs of the legislative process were analyzed to see if, in fact, such
response was forthcoming. Essentially, inputs are in the form of gubernatorial
addresses and special messages, and activities of certain nonlegislative groups
\vho may have been responding to the Commission's Report. Outputs are
the bills introduced and killed or passed in the legislative sessions following
the release of the Commission's Report. As was noted previously, it is difficult
to detennine precisely what constitutes a response to the Report. For purposes
of this analysis, any message from the governor, organizational activity, or
legislative proposal which bears a close relationship to the racial conflict
described or recommendations for action urged by the Commission are con-
sidered a response of some nature.
The analysis is focused primarily on those activities occurring after the
release of the Report (March 2, 1968). The timetable listed below begins
more than two years earlier than that because the possible relationship between
the Kerner Commission and the Illinois legislature cannot be considered an
isolated one. Events help shape the lives and behavior of men; but events
have relationships. The following list is not exclusive — only those occur-
rences which seem to place the Kerner Commission Report and the operation
of Illinois government in historical perspective are noted.
A Timetable of Events
January- 7, 1966 — Dr. Martin Luther King launched SCLC's "first sustained
Northern movement" in Chicago. Demanded an end to discrimination
in jobs, housing, and schools.
June/July, 1966 — Civil disturbances in Puerto Rican and Negro communities
103
in Chicago. Two people killed and hundreds arrested. Governor Kemer
sent in National Guard to quell the violence.
August, 1966 — Fourteen persons injured and eighty arrested in wake of
racial trouble in Waukegan, Illinois.
September, 1966- — Civil rights march into Cicero, Illinois, with resulting
injuries and arrests. Governor Kerner sent in 2,000 National Guard
troops.
January 4, 1967 — Govei-nor Kerner addressed the opening of the 75th Gen-
eral Assembly (this legislature had just been reapportioned on a "one-man,
one-vote" basis).
May/ July /August/September/November, 1967 — Scattered racial incidents
with var)ing degrees of violence in Chicago, Aurora, Maywood, Cairo,
Waukegan, Evanston, Peoria, Rockford, Elgin, and Madison, Illinois.
June 30, 1967 — Adjournment of the 75th General Assembly to a day certain,
beginning a practice of holding off-year sessions.
July 28, 1967 • — • President Johnson established National Advisory Commission
on Civil Disorders. Governor Kemer of Illinois was appointed chairman,
March 2, 1968 — Kerner Commission Report released.
March 4, 1968 — The 75th General Assembly reconvened for a one-day
session.
April 4, 1968 — Dr. Martin Luther King assassinated in Memphis.
April 5-8, 1968 — Rioting in Chicago as aftermath of Dr. King's assassination.
May 21, 1968 — Governor Kemer stepped down to become judge of U.S.
Court of Appeals for the 7th Circuit. Lt. Governor Samuel Shapiro be-
came Governor of Illinois.
July 15-July 25, 1968 — The 75th General Assembly reconvened for short
session.
July 15, 1968 — Governor Shapiro addressed joint session of 75th General
Assembly.
January 8, 1969 — Opening session of 76th General Assembly. Gov. Shapiro's
message to joint session on completion of his term.
January 13, 1969 — Gov. Ogilvie's inauguration and address to 76th General
Assembly.
March/April/May, 1969 — Continued racial violence in Cairo, Illinois.
May 14-15, 1969 — Rev. Jesse Jackson, head of Operation Breadbasket, led
delegation to Springfield to protest proposed welfare cuts.
June 19, 1969 — Gov. Ogilvie sent seventy state troopers to Cairo, Illinois,
after four nights of sniping and arson.
June 30, 1969 — The 76th General Assembly adjourned to a day certain.
104
July 16-22, 1969 — Series of sit-ins in front of Governor Ogilvie's office staged
by the United Front of Cairo to demand that the Governor declare Cairo
a disaster area and grant massive state aid. Approximately seventy per-
sons eventually arrested.
October 14-23, 1969— Short session of the 76th General Assembly.
After the Report: Governors and Legislatures
The timetable points out the following pertinent facts: (1) Illinois has
had three governors since the release of the Kerner Commission Report; (2)
the 75th Illinois General Assembly held two short "ofT-year" sessions after the
release of the Report and the 76th General Assembly held a normal January
to June session plus a short October meeting; (3) the recent history of the
state (before and after the Report) has been dotted with varying kinds of
racial trouble.
The 75th General Assembly. Despite his close identification with the find-
ings of the National Advisory Commission, Governor Kerner's administration
was something less than a model of state implementation of Commission
recommendations. While the 75th General Assembly was in session, Governor
Kerner submitted special messages on law enforcement, higher education,
and employment discrimination. In his budget message, he made reference
to education and social services. Yet, Governor Kerner's special messages,
viewed separately or collectively, did not present a broad program for solving
inner-city racial problems. His proposals for change were essentially piecemeal
in scope and administrative in content. He called for the expansion of some
programs (e.g., local police training) and the reorganization of some agencies
(e.g., making the Youth Commission a code department) .
On the positive side, it should be noted that Governor Kerner urged an
increase in minimum wages, a strengthening of the state Fair Employment
Practices Commission, the establishment of an executive-level Office of Inter-
governmental Cooperation, and the raising of the state education equalization
level from $330 to $400 per pupil (although he made no mention of re-
moving the inequities in the state aid formula) . In calling for a statewide
"open housing" law. Governor Kerner presented perhaps his strongest state-
ment on human rights. The occasion was the opening of the 75th General As-
sembly (January 4, 1970).
The moral, social and economic sore of discrimination continues to fester in the
body and soul of our nation. It breeds poverty and crime, spawns hatred and
violence, saps our strength. Racial strife in our State last year necessitated the
calling of our National Guard. I am hopeful that it is never so used again, but if
need be it will, as promptly and forcefully as before, to protect the rights and prop-
erty of all people. Greater responsibility is required of all. We have our responsi-
bility in government. It is true that this great social problem cannot be solved by
law alone, but it is also true that it cannot be solved \vithout the law. This points
out the necessity of enactnient of a freedom-of-residence law.
105
The reason for all such action is contained in the words of a great governor, John P.
Altgeld, addressing himself to another time of social unrest when labor strife em-
broiled the entire state and there was discrimination of another kind. When, as
now, irresponsibility was not confined to one side of the question and when the
cry of anarchist by some covered every man who simply protested injustice and
indignity.
Altgeld said: "Only those nations grow great which correct abuses, make reforms,
and listen to the voice of the struggling masses." Times have not changed in this
regard.
Despite the eloquence of this statement, a state open housing bill never
made its way through the legislature. Nor was there any evidence of a broad
gubernatorial program designed to "make reforms and listen to the voice of the
struggling masses." Although Governor Kemer supported an integrated Na-
tional Guard, open housing, nondiscrimination in employment, etc., his
"pre-Report" posture as governor of Illinois gave little indication that the
Commission's work, under his chairmanship, would present the broad and
penetrating report which it did.
Kerner's "post-Report" tenure was short lived. Exactly fourteen months
after his human rights statement to the 75th General Assembly and two days
after the release of the Commission's Report, the General Assembly held a
one-day session in Springfield. It is probably unreasonable to expect legislative
response within forty-eight hours after the Commission's Report was released.
Yet a few interesting bills were introduced at the March 4 session and were
acted upon when the legislature reconvened in July. One bill, which was in
opposition to one of the Commission's findings, would have prevented the
assignment or busing of students for purposes of racial integration. Conversely,
a bill to create an Emplo)'ment Development Act was introduced. Under the
terms of this proposed legislation, business corporations would be authorized
to set up wholly owned subsidiaries in Model City or depressed areas. These
subsidiaries would be exempt from corporation taxes. This corresponds with
the Kemer Commission's recommendations for greater involvement by private
industry^ and the use of tax incentives.^° Other bills would have increased
municipalities' share of the sales tax, increased the maximum permissible tax
rate for the Chicago Board of Education, and enacted a state freedom-of-
residence law. None of these bills passed.
One month later. Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated. Despite Gov-
ernor Kerner's hope that the National Guard would not have to be used
again, he sent troops into Chicago during a four-day siege following Dr. King's
death. Eleven people were killed, some 500 were injured, and almost 3,000
were arrested during the disturbances.
' Ibid., p. 399 and p. 406.
^° Ibid., Appendix H.
106
About sLx weeks later, Governor Kerner resigned to become a judge in the
U.S. Court of Appeals. His Lieutenant Governor, Samuel Shapiro, took over
the state's top executive position.
Governor Shapiro immediately faced a severe fiscal crisis — one which
required borrowing from the state's motor fuel tax fund. When he addressed
a joint session of the 75th General Assembly, meeting on July 15, he spoke
about the crisis and asked for legislative permission to borrow $60 million from
the motor fuel fund. The Governor also addressed himself to the "law and
order" issue. He called for a strengthening of the state's gun control law
(passed in 1967), an increase in the number of state police, and the passage
of a "stop-and-frisk" law.
Twice Governor Shapiro made direct reference to the Kerner Commission
Report. In urging a "stop-and-frisk" bill, he took cognizance of the warnings
of the Commission concerning the danger of such a law. He noted that Gov-
ernor Kerner had vetoed such legislation on two previous occasions because
of its questionable constitutionality. But, Governor Shapiro added, recent
U.S. Supreme Court decisions had established reasonable guidelines within
\vhich his proposed legislation would fall.
His second reference to the Commission's Report \vas in regard to inner-
city property' insurance. He noted that a report of the Commission's subcom-
mittee on insurance concluded that the ready availability of insurance was a
necessary' ingredient in revitalizing cities. He called on the General Assembly
to implement the subcommittee's recommendations.
In the July session of the legislature, Governor Shapiro was successful in
getting some of his recommendations passed. The General Assembly passed
and sent to the Governor legislation on urban property insurance, stop-and-
frisk powers of police, and borrowing from the motor fuel fund. The legis-
lature failed to pass a strengthening amendment to the gun control law, an
increase in the state police force, and a bill which would have created a law
enforcement planning and assistance board. In other action, a bill which re-
quires the reporting of cases of malnutrition to the Department of Public
Health was passed and signed by the Governor. Two pieces of legislation,
which were "anti-Report" in substance, were killed in committee. One bill
would have made welfare recipients ineligible for assistance for one year after
being convicted of the crimes or araied violence, rioting, or looting. The
other bill would have prevented the hiring (in government) of anyone con-
victed of looting and would have provided for the immediate discharge of
anyone so convicted.
The 76th General Assembly. At the November, 1968, general election.
Republican Richard B. Ogilvie defeated Shapiro in the race for governor.
In his inaugural address to the new 76th General Assembly, Governor Ogilvie
did not make specific reference to the Kerner Commission. Yet the tone of
107
his speech indicated an a\vareness of some of the problems included in the
Report.
. . . \'oices are raised in dissent and protest, and there is a crisis of alienation
among us.
. . . The black man, the youth and the philosopher who protest are demanding
change, and they confront our conscience the way slavery, the sweatshops and other
hypocrisy of earlier times stirred Americans.
. . . We can't stand prosperity — -when too many are still poor. ^Ve cannot fully
accept the explosion of knowledge — when it pushes some ever higher and others
into deepening ignorance. W^e are uncomfortable at the gap between what we believe
and what we have achieved.
. . . We shall hold no objective more important than to mobilize the full force of
this state government against poverty and ignorance. For these are the twin
scourges of our society. They are the roots of crime and of the decay of our cities.
Less than a month after his inaugural address, Governor Ogilvie went be-
fore the legislature again to discuss the increasingly serious fiscal crisis in the
state. In his February 5, 1969, address, the Governor told the legislators that
the state was living on borrowed money through a series of stop-gap mea-
sures. He called for a review of department personnel, a delay in new capital
construction, and a general cost-reduction program in state government. He
noted that his administration ^vould begin budgeting on an annual basis, and
he asked for legislative support for a bill \\hich would establish a Bureau of
the Budget.
On March 26, 1969, the Governor delivered a special message on local
government in which he called for nine nonfiscal structural reforms. Basically
these reforms would have provided a small degree of legislative home rule
for municipalities. They ranged from an expansion of local licensing powers
to authorization for intergovernmental cooperation. One suggestion would
have imposed a modem civil ser\'ice system on the city of Chicago. Of the
governor's recommendations, two ^vere passed by the legislature. One estab-
lished a state Department of Local Government AflFairs and the other
accelerated the transfer of road-building funds to local treasuries. The Local
Government Affairs Department represents an attempt to consolidate some
other code departments' dealings with local government. The new depart-
ment came into existence on January 2, 1970; consequently, it is too early
to determine whether it will provide better state servdces to local units of
government.
Governor Ogilvie's April 1, 1969, budget message to the legislature out-
lined increases in three major functional areas. In education, the Go\ernor
proposed raising the state per-pupil grant from $400 to $500 and adjusting
the aid formula from Average Daily Attendance (ADA) to Average Daily
Membership (ADM). The new formula, if approved by the legislature,
would be based on enrollment, and this would significantly aid inner-city
school districts where absenteeism is higher than it is in suburban or rural
districts. The Governor also noted that he would have further recommenda-
tions for state aid formula adjustments in 1970. In addition to these changes,
Governor Ogilvie budgeted $32 million for state aid to private schools. If
approved by the General Assembly, this would be a "first" in Illinois history.
The second area budgeted for a major increase was highway transportation
(an additional $437 million). The third area of initiative was a proposed
new program of revenue-sharing with local government. This was part of
the income tax package proposed by the Governor in this budget message.
When the complete story of the state's first income tax is told, it will
unquestionably rank with the most intriguing political sagas in the history
of Illinois. It will be a story filled with vignettes of persuasion, cajoling,
intimidation, and compromise in the best tradition of politics. Suffice it to
say here that the Governor, in his April 1, 1969, budget message, proposed the
imposition of a 4 per cent flat rate tax on both individuals and corporations,
allowing a $1,000 per person exemption with one-eighth of the revenue going
back to local governments. When the smoke had cleared, the final income
tax bill passed by the legislature (and signed by the Governor) provided for
a 4 per cent tax on corporations and a 2'/2 per cent tax on individuals (with
$1,000 exemption), with one-twelfth of the revenue going back to local
governments on a per capita basis. There was also an increase in the propor-
tion of the sales tax which would stay with the local community (from %
of 1 per cent to a full 1 per cent) .
In many respects, the story of the 76th General Assembly is the story of
the passage of the income tax. As one knowledgeable political reporter said
near the end of the session :
The income tax completely dominates everything else. The whole show is like a
slow ballet waiting to build to its inevitable climax: the tax issue."
Yet there were almost 2,000 bills enacted into law during the 76th
General Assembly, only a few of which related to the revenue package.^^ As
in any session of the General Assembly, many of the bills were technical and
housekeeping in nature, although some have relevance for the findings of the
Kerner Commission Report. These were divided into functional categories
for purposes of analysis.
Education. Some of the Governor's recommendations concerning education
" Chicago Sun Times, June 16, 1969.
" Technically, the 76th General Assembly has not adjourned "sine die." There
is a planned session around April 1, 1970, with the possibility of further sessions in
the fall. At the time of this writing, however, the legislature had completed its
normal January to June meeting with a short October session added. It was these
sessions which were analyzed in this paper. One is reminded that the 76th General
Assembly represents the first full legislative session to be held after the release of
the Kerner Commission Report.
109
have been noted earlier. The legislature went beyond the Governor's proposed
increase of state per-pupil aid; the General Assembly passed a bill which
increased the aid from $400 to $520 per student. However, bills which would
change the state-aid formula (from ADA to ADM) were killed in committee.
Am^g the education bills passed by the 76th General Assembly were two
which raised the maximum interest rate payable on school bonds and raised
the tax rate maximums for school building pui-poses. Other bills which passed
authorized the Chicago Board of Education to employ volunteer personnel
for nonteaching duties, lowered the eligibility age (from 21 to 19) for taking
the GED test, and appropriated over $6 million to help pay for school trans-
portation costs. Perhaps the two most noteworthy bills \vhich passed the
legislature were HB 2601 and SB 1255. The latter piece of legislation set up
an experimental junior college district in East St. Louis which is financed
entirely by state funds. Bill HB 2601 appropriated $5.4 million to expand
a free school lunch program for needy children. Prior to this, the program
had been entirely financed by the federal government.
Among the defeated bills were ones which would have authorized Chicago
to levy an additional 1 per cent municipal retailers occupation tax to be used
for school purposes, granted state aid to parents of children in private schools,
and provided for state funding of local programs for educationally dis-
advantaged children. Two other bills, \vhich were in direct opposition to
Kemer Commission recommendations, were tabled in committee. One would
have removed provisions prohibiting school boards from promoting segregation
in the erection, purchase, or acquisition of school buildings. The other would
have prohibited the assignment of pupils to a school outside their district
without the written permission of their parents.
The Police and the Courts. The Kemer Commission Report contains
many pages devoted to an analysis of ho%v the behavior of police and the
administration of justice can sometimes act as a catalyst for violence in the
ghetto. The record of the 76th General Assembly in this regard is something
less than enviable. Only tvvo important bills were passed in this session.
One bill provided that no one is to be barred from an appointment to any
civil service position (other than policeman) for any record of misdemeanor
convictions or arrests without conviction. The other bill reduced the penalty
for the possession of marijuana.
Some "positive" bills (e.g., the repeal of the "stop-and-frisk" law, the
creation of a Commission of Police Relations, the requirement of training
for Cook County police appointees, and the creation of a statewide Defender
General System) were stalled somewhere along the legislative path. A series
of bills which would make the granting of parole and the raising of bail more
difficult were killed in committee. A bill which would have made the 1967
gun control law applicable only to Cook County was vetoed by the Governor.
And, an eavesdropping law was passed and signed by the Governor. This
law provides that one party to a conversation can consent to the use of an
eavesdropping device and it permits the use of information obtained by such
a device in a criminal proceeding.
Housing. Despite the introduction of a number of "open housing" bills
in the 76th General Assembly, none was passed. A bill designed to eliminate
racial discrimination in the rental of housing also failed. Bills which would
strip Chicago aldermen of their veto power over public housing sites, prohibit
state housing authorities from discriminating against unwed mothers re-
garding tenant selection, and permit the withholding of rent if the landlord
did not repair premises in compliance with local building codes were all
killed in committees.
Two bills which were passed deserve mention. One provides for the
liability of landlords who exceed the number of apartments permitted by
local ordinances. The other is designed to curb "panic peddling" in racially
changing neighborhoods. The actual workability of the latter bill is not yet
clear. It provides that owners of property who do not wish to be solicited
for the sale of such property can file an affidavit with the state Human Rela-
tions Commission. Official complaints can be filed with the Attorney General.
Health and Welfare. There were a large number of bills introduced in
the 1969 General Assembly which could be called "health and welfare"
proposals. Some could be labeled "positive," (i.e., in line with the general
thrust of the Kerner Commission Report) while others were clearly "nega-
tive" (i.e., in opposition to the Commission's recommendations concerning the
welfare system) .
Among the "positive" pieces of legislation which passed was a bill which
permits the Department of Public Aid to disregard the loan value of any
insurance policy held by an applicant; legislation empowering the Depart-
ment of Children and Family Services to make grant-in-aid payments to local
governmental units and other nonprofit bodies which provide day care ser-
vices; a bill which extends eligibility for education and training programs to
persons who qualify for medical assistance; and a bill which extends eligibility
for the ADC program to children placed in foster care by order of the Juvenile
Court. In the area of medical services, legislation was passed to provide
hearing tests for all school or day care children (effective September 1, 1970) .
"Positive" bills which did not pass the 76the General Assembly included
legislation which would have created a legislative commission to study the
feasibility of supplying birth control services to women on public assistance,
would have added four recipients to the Board of Public Aid Commissioners,
would have increased AFDC and General Assistance grants to specified
federal standards, and would have authorized the Department of Public
111
Aid to assist in a recipient's defense in an eviction action resulting from rent-
withholding by the department.
A number of "negative" bills were introduced, but not passed. One pro-
posed bill would have limited aid payments to a recipient who had lived in
Illinois less than one year. Another would have required general assistance
recipients to accept suitable work. A third bill would have denied aid to
applicants who were found to have entered Illinois for the purpose of re-
ceiving aid. The most noteworthy legislation in this category was a bill
introduced by Speaker of the House (now U. S. Senator) Ralph Smith which
would have cut welfare payments by 30 per cent. This brought Rev. Jesse
Jackson and some 2,000 welfare recipients to Springfield to protest, Jackson
made unscheduled speeches before the Illinois House and Senate and packed
the galleries in the House chambers. The Governor then opposed the measure
and Smith's bill was tabled.
Civil Rights. As was previously noted, there were a number of bills intro-
duced in the 76th General Assembly dealing with some kind of "open housing"
law. None was successful. A bill which would have made the birthday of
Dr. Martin Luther King a legal holiday was vetoed by the Governor, but
legislation which designated Dr. King's birthday as a school commemorative
day was passed and signed by the Governor.
The "civil rights" bills which passed the General Assembly provided for
an authorization to municipalities to promulgate regulations or establish
various programs to bring about improved racial and ethnic group relations
and a prohibition against any rules or regulations which result in discrimina-
tion in medical insurance policies governing the reimbursement for physicians'
services.
Among the bills which failed to pass was one which would have broadened
the types of employment discrimination prohibited in contracts for public
buildings; another would have created a type of omnibus Fair Practices
Commission to investigate all kinds of discrimination ; a third was designed to
protect the civil rights of all persons to inherit, purchase, lease, sell, hold, and
convey real and personal property; and a fourth would have created a new
Commission on Human Rights. There was also a series of bills (sponsored by
the four black senators) which would have provided some protection to con-
sumers in installment buying transactions. All of these bills were tabled in
committee. There was also an interesting case of legislative inertia in the
House. On April 28, 1969, the House adopted Bill HR-123 which set up a
seven-member committee to determine the extent of hunger and malnutrition
in the state and to report by June 2, 1969. The committee failed to conduct
hearings — and failed to report.
Employment. The 76th General Assembly dealt with a number of bills
which fit under the rubric "employment." A vast proportion of these con-
cerned such issues as collective bargaining for public employees, discrimination
based on sex, and proper standards for employment of \vomen. Legislation
dealing with the hard-core unemployed and changing the opportunity struc-
ture in the state was almost nonexistent. One bill which did pass appropriated
$15,000 to the Fair Employment Practices Commission (FEPC) to enforce
laws prohibiting discrimination by anyone holding a state contract or by any
labor organization having a collective bargaining agreement with anyone
holding a state contract.
Bills which would have established a minimum wage of $1.60 per hour,
required political subdivisions to emplo)- former public aid recipients in 20
per cent of their non-civil service positions, permitted departments of public
aid to provide lists of recipients to private employers engaged in training
programs, and provided for a program of new careers in state service for per-
sons who might otherwise be public aid recipients were all tabled in commit-
tees. Some of the black representatives in the House sponsored a series of bills
which would have prevented a felony conviction from being an automatic
bar to certification for certain professions licensed by the state. These bills
passed the House but were stalled in the Senate. A similar fate awaited a
possibly significant bill which would have given the state FEPC initiatory
powers to investigate unfair labor practices.
Government Restructuring. The General Assembly made some organiza-
tional changes at the state, county, and local levels. At the state level, estab-
lishment of the Bureau of the Budget and establishment of the Department of
Local Government have been noted. The legislature also created the De-
partment of Law Enforcement and the Department of Corrections. Both
departments have absorbed some of the functions of the Department of Public
Safety. The Department of Law Enforcement is most noteworthy for one
of its divisions — the Illinois Bureau of Investigation ( IBI ) , patterned after
the national FBI. The Department of Corrections is significant in that the
bill which created it also provided for a full-time Parole and Pardon Board
under its direction. The hope is that more equitable administration will re-
sult from a full-time board. A bill which would have created the office of
Ombudsman to be filled by the Lieutenant Governor was tabled in com-
mittee. This bill would have given the office some investigatory powers.
At the county level, a series of bills was passed which will eventually re-
structure county boards (under township organization) to conform with
recent "one-man, one-vote" decisions of the courts. One of the underlying
assumptions in the "one-man, one-vote" decisions is that governing bodies
chosen on that basis will be more responsive to the needs of urban areas. A
bill which would have created a strong county executive form of government
failed in the Senate. As was previously noted, efforts to authorize the creation
of regional councils of government also failed.
At the municipality level, one rather interesting alternative was added to
the list of options available to city-manager forms of government. Prior to
this legislative session, the statutes allowed the election of councilmen either
from districts or on an at-large basis. Now, depending on the size of the
community, the voters can elect some councilmen at large and some from
districts. The Kerner Commission Report notes (at page 296) that at-large
election systems tend to effectively disenfranchise minority groups. The ex-
pectation is that, in those cities which choose to adopt this combination sys-
tem, minority groups will more easily elect some of their own people to the
city council.
The exact relationship between these kinds of governmental reorganiza-
tion schemes and improvement in the quality of life in the inner-city is far
from clear. The departmental changes at the state level may very well have
the effect of more efficient administration in certain functional areas. But,
as the Kerner Commission Report points out (at p. 287, noting the rise of
"efficient" managerial government and the corresponding demise of "ma-
chine" politics), governmental efficiency does not necessarily mean govern-
mental responsiveness — particularly responsiveness to the powerless groups
in society.
The changes noted at the county and city levels may have ramifications
which are equally unclear. The expectations are that these changes will re-
sult in greater minority group representation on county boards and city
councils. However, historical examples of the ingenuity of those in power to
turn apparent reform into mechanisms for maintainance of the status quo
admonish one to adopt a "wait and see" attitude regarding the real effects
of these changes.
Conclusion
The major underlying assumption in this paper is that a state legislature,
specifically the Illinois General Assembly, could legitimately be expected to
respond, in some fashion, to the findings of the Kerner Commission Report.
A review of the bills passed since the release of the Report forces one to
conclude that legislative response was practically nonexistent. The most
significant output from the General Assembly would include the state's
revenue-sharing plan with local governments, urban property insurance
legislation, an experimental junior college in East St. Louis with full state
funding, and an expanded school lunch program. Other important legis-
lation (with uncertain ramifications) would include the reporting of cases
of malnutrition in children, efforts to curb "panic peddling" in racially
changing neighborhoods, attempts to loosen the welfare system, and structural
changes which may result in increased minority representation on some
governing bodies. The only legislation which was clearly in direct response
to the Kerner Commission Report was the bill on urban property insurance
which followed some of the recommendations of the Commission's subcom-
mittee on insurance.
Why was there such meager response? This question immediately comes
to mind after one compares the seriousness of the Kerner Commission findings
with the output of the Illinois legislature. A complete analysis of legislative
inertia would require another paper in addition to this one, but a few general
remarks are in order.
The legislative process in Illinois is a curious mixture of political culture,
tradition, and partisanship with external pressures and internal structure.
The Illinois General Assembly does not act — it reacts. Historically, most
far-reaching proposals have had their origin outside the legislature. Governors,
executive agencies, and lobbying groups have been the main sources of ideas.^^
But, since the release of the Kerner Commission Report, not one outside
agency or group has come before the legislature with a broad program based
on the Commission's findings. The one possible exception to this is the Wel-
fare Council of Metropolitan Chicago (WCMC) which keeps a close watch
over health and welfare legislation in Springfield. In fact, late in 1968 the
Council issued a flyer entitled, "Where We Stand on Issues Raised by the
Kerner Report." This was sent to legislators, but it had little or no effect.
It was written in general language and was directed to all levels of govern-
ment. No pressure group developed a program of specific pieces of legislation
to which the state legislature could react.
Nor did such a program come from the executive branch. Some piecemeal
legislation, recommended by the various governors, did pass the legislature
but, again, none presented a broad program based on Commission findings.
In defense of the three governors, it should be noted that none of them had
the luxury of a long tenure in which to develop far-reaching programs.
Kerner became a judge shortly after the Commission's Report was issued,
Shapiro faced an election campaign soon after taking office, and Ogilvie was
forced to break in a new administration while facing a severe fiscal crisis
culminating in the state's first income tax. Yet despite these explanations,
the fact remains that the General Assembly had no gubernatorial program to
which they could react. In their addresses and special messages, all three
governors indicated a concern with the inner-city, with poverty, and with
racial conflict. But, in general, these concerns remained at the level of rhetoric
and were not really translated into policy output.
Another important explanatory variable which should be used when
analyzing Illinois legislative politics is the traditional conflict between Chicago
and downstate. In general, downstate Republican suspicion of Chicago and
"Samuel K. Gove, Reapportionment and The Cities (Chicago: Center for
Research in Urban Government, Loyola University, No. 12, June, 1968), p. 31.
115
Chicago Democratic suspicion of downstate is a consistent undercurrent
in most legislative sessions. Illinois' unique system of cumulative voting
guarantees that the parties will be closely divided in the House, although
the Senate is normally heavily Republican. Cumulative voting is also an in-
hibiting factor in statewide intra-party cohesion since in many districts,
minority party candidates find themselves running against party colleagues.
This kind of politics can split local party organizations. All in all, then, intra-
party conflict (based to a large extent on geography) and intra-party an-
tagonisms (based to a large extent on a unique selection system) combine to
create a legislative setting which is not conducive to broad social reform.
Under these circumstances, it would be surprising to see one of the political
parties develop a broad program which related to the Kerner Commission
Report.
In many respects, the Illinois legislature is a microcosm of the larger
society. It is generally white, middle class, and well satisfied with the status
quo. It responds to pressure — but to certain kinds of pressure. Pressure must
be exerted in a legitimate manner and come from a legitimate source. Strong,
well-funded lobbying groups enjoy a considerable amount of influence in the
legislature. Unfortunately, civil rights groups do not enjoy a similar amount
of legitimacy. And the effect is cyclical — civil rights groups do not see the
Illinois legislature as an agent for social change.
Given all these factors, what does one see when he examines the relation-
ship between the Kerner Commission Report and the operation of the Illinois
General Assembly? One sees a deliberative body which reacts; but one also
sees an executive branch, a system of pressure groups, political parties, etc.,
which failed to present anything to which that deliberative body could react.
The problem rests both in and out of the legislature. The legislature is guilty
because it continues to operate under a system of reduced legislator visibility,
consistent conflict, and inevitable compromise — a system in which organiza-
tional maintenance becomes the primary goal. It continues to sanction a
pressure-group system in which the legitimacy of the group is based on how
strong and how middle class it is and not on the content of its position. Out-
side institutions share equally in the problem because they understand the
"rules of the legislative game" but are unwilling to make the necessary ad-
justments to propose a system of human dignity.^*
Three interesting and unusual events which took place during the 76th
General Assembly provide some reason for hope. The convergence of Jesse
Jackson (from Chicago) and the United Front delegation (from Cairo) on
the General Assembly indicate that this kind of pressure can be successful.
" These considerations, plus the normal conservatism of the Illinois legislature,
provide some explanation for the defeat of certain individual "positive" bills. How-
ever, the number of factors affecting the success or failure of any one bill may be
legion.
Rev. Jackson (head of Operation Breadbasket) and his followers had some
effect on the withdrawal of a bill to cut welfare payments by 30 per cent. A
legislative commission was appointed to investigate the racial troubles in
Cairo. One result was the repeal of an old Illinois law which gave legal status
to vigilante groups. Further state involvment in the Cairo situation is
expected.
The third phenomenon is perhaps the most promising. The 76th General
Assembly was the scene of an emerging mobilization of black legislators. There
were eighteen blacks in the General Assembly (fourteen in the House and
four in the Senate) .^^ They began to vote together, to lobby together, to caucus
together, and even to filibuster together. Although they maintained an interest
in all civil rights legislation, they focused much of their energy on one issue
— hiring more blacks in state government. They received support from the
Governor, and a House committee was appointed to investigate the problem.
This committee will report by the end of 1970.
Black legislators and black pressure groups may combine to create a
powerful coalition. They have begun to develop their own brand of legiti-
macy and they are becoming increasingly aware of the "rules of the game."
Strong political mobilization may be the key to unlock a previously tight
legislative structure in Illinois. After all, political power is what the legislature
understands best.
^^ This represents the largest number of blacks in any state legislature in the
country. Proportionately, however, the Senate (6.9 per cent) and the House (7.9
per cent) fall below the proportion of state population classified as nonwhite (10.3
per cent).
117
CONGRESS AND THE COMMISSIONERS: A NEW SPECIES OF OVERSIGHT
MARVIN J. WEINBAUM
The civil disorders that surfaced in major urban ghettos during the 1960's
are symptomatic of social ills endemic to American society. The problems of
our cities touch nearly every American and will require a national effort to
remedy. Agreed on this diagnosis, the National Advisory (Kerner) Com-
mission on Civil Disorders devotes some 30,000 words in its March, 1968,
Report to recommendations for national action. Though local leaders and
community institutions are charged with prime responsibility for dealing with
the conditions that spawn riots, the authors of the Report are mindful of a
substantial federal role. The commitment of massive national resources is
a key ingredient in the Commission's prescription to heal urban problems. Only
the investment of federal revenue is deemed adequate to meet the high costs
of coping with unrest in the cities. The national leadership is enjoined to help
generate the will and compassion of the nation's unions, churches, founda-
tions, and universities in the undertaking. Toward these ends, the Kerner
Report outlines a federal role that is less marked by novel approaches than by
more earnest pursuit of goals already set, and by improved administration of
programs already in force.
The United States Congress is seldom addressed specifically in the Com-
mission's recommendations. Even so, the Congress is implicated in virtually
every proposal calling for national action. As guardian of the federal purse
and spokesman for majority and minority interests, Congress is an indispensable
partner in the business of shaping urban policies. In recognition of this fact,
this essay examines the congressional response to the Kerner Report by tracing
and accounting for the disposition in Congress of the Report^ recommenda-
tions. The essay is divided into three sections. The first reviews the Report's
explicit and implicit substantive demands on Capitol Hill legislators. We
next survey legislative activities in the 19 months following March 1, 1968,
for direct evidence of the Commission's contribution to the congressional
product. A third section explores several explanations for the observed be-
havior of the Congress and speculates on the future of the Kerner Report as
a blueprint for legislation in the 1970's. The essay concludes with a considera-
tion of the probable fate of welfare proposals introduced by the Nixon Ad-
ministration in August, 1969.
Chapter 17 of the Kerner Commission Report singles out employment,
education, welfare, and housing for specific recommendations to national
decision-makers. In the discussion below we concentrate on two of these
problem areas, employment and welfare, and inventory those proposals that
appear to be invitations to congressional action. Much of our presentation of
the Commission's recommendations necessarily departs from the original text
in order to draw out the implications for legislation. To illustrate the various
forms a congressional response might take, we rely on our own notions of
plausible actions as well as on suggestions contained in the Report.
1. Congress is called upon to assure that there is a sustained emphasis on
national economic growth. The Report is especially anxious to see newly
trained and underemployed persons absorbed into the workforce at a higher
rate. The Commissioners assume that an expanding economy can be kept
from overheating and that Congress and the Administration will continue
to follow an essentially Keynesian economic strategy.
2. Congress is directed to encourage the creation of new jobs in both the
public and private sectors of the economy. Over one million new jobs are
requested in a three-year period for each sector. Congress is asked to increase
shaqDly the amount reimbursed to employees who hire the otherwise unem-
ployable and is requested to legislate tax credits for participating employers.
The Report endorses such programs as the Neighborhood Youth Corps, the
training of welfare recipients under AFDC, and retooling in the Manpower
Development Training Act. Absent from the recommendations, however, is
any suggestion that Congress consider WPA-style programs to create jobs for
the hard core unemployed.
3. The Report stresses the need for greater mobility within the public job
structure. To accomplish this, Congress is asked to strengthen the staff, in-
crease the resources, and expand the authorization of the Equal Employment
Opportunities Commission. The Kerner Report recommends that federal,
state, and local government be brought more effectively under the anti-
discrimination provisions of Title VII of the 1964 Civil Rights Act. Interest-
ingly, Congress is not asked to consider modifications in civil ser\'ice statutes
as a means of providing more flexibility in some public employment categories.
4. The Commission suggests that the Congress improve small business and
entrepreneurial opportunities in urban and rural poverty areas by facilitating
public and private investments. Specifically, Congress is called upon to con-
sider increasing tax credits to business and to liberalize the current definition
of "investment." The Report implies that the Congress should review those
practices of the Small Business Administration and the Commerce Department
aimed at stimulating business in depressed areas.
5. The Report recommends that job training programs be complemented
120
by better employment information for the newly trained worker. The experi-
mental mobility program under the Manpower Development and Training
Act is cited to illustrate ho\v the trained may be aided in finding jobs.
Current welfare policies are characterized by the Commission as con-
tributing to the social disorganization and helping to precipitate civil disorders.
The Report found two general deficiencies in the prevailing \velfare s)stem:
it fails to include many needy people who, if assisted, can become productive
and self-sufficient; and it fails to establish adequate levels of assistance. An
overhaul of the system is called for at the federal, state, and local levels. The
Commission notes that without federal legislation no changes are probable,
since better than 90 per cent of welfare pa^-ments across the country are fully
or partially supported by national funds.
1. The Report suggests that a minimum income standard be set for
families covered by the Aid for Families of Dependent Children program.
Congress is asked to consider that the "poverty level" be established at $3,335
for a family of four, the standard employed by the Social Security Administra-
tion. The amount, it is argued, should reflect variations in the cost of living
in difTerent geographic areas. Additionally, federal legislators are advised to
amend welfare legislation in order to increase the federal portion of AFDC
monthly payments.
2. Congress is asked to give permanent status to a provision in the 1961
legislation making AFDC payments available to needy families with two un-
employed parents. It is also recommended that this provision be mandatory in
all states and that a broader definition of unemployment be uniformly adopted.
3. The Commission favors job training for welfare recipients, though it
suggests that women with "small" children should not be compelled to work
in order to retain support. A recommendation is made that a 1967 law
allocating funds for day care centers be expanded by Congress. The Report
does not, however, explore the probable costs of a full-scale program. Also,
the Commission requests that ^velfare recipients be allowed to retain a greater
portion of any earned income.
4. The federal government is asked to assume a larger portion of welfare
costs. Municipal governments should be relieved from this obligation entirely.
Elimination by Congress of a 1967 welfare freeze, scheduled to go into effect
July, 1968, is vigorously urged in the Report. It is argued that the federal
government should not, by restricting applicants, pass the financial burden to
the states and localities.
5. Congress is asked to separate the administration of AFDC from the
general assistance to aid the aged and physically handicapped. The Com-
mission suggests that legislation be \vritten to locate the latter assistance pro-
grams in the Social Security Administration.
6. Federal grants are requested for special neighborhood welfare centers
and diagnostic clinics. Congress is called upon to aid the decentralization of
sen-ices and programs. Many now under the Office of Economic Opportunity
and the Department of Housing and Urban Development should be combined
to create multipurpose neighborhood centers. Additionally, funds should be
set aside to underwrite family planning programs.
7. The Commission invites congressional consideration of a system of
income supplements that would entitle eveiyone to a "minimal standard of
decent living." The necessity of eligibility requirements would thus be
eliminated. The Commission insists that there is no better means of breaking
the circle of poverty and ending dependence on welfaie. Aside from recog-
nizing the considerable costs of a basic family allowance, the Report makes
no effort to spell out the details of such a proposal. Legislators are asked,
however, to look for direction to the Model Cities Program and studies of the
Commission on Income Maintenance Programs.
In sum, the Commission outlines for Congress and the Executive branch a
dual set of goals on welfare; some require only modest alterations in prevail-
ing practices; others presuppose radical departures in policy. Overall, the
Commissioners are anxious to have the federal government assume increased
responsibilities for all welfare pa)ments and to extend the coverage to larger
numbers of people. Beyond new legislation. Congress is expected to prod
federal administrators and policy-makers in the states.
The tenor of the congressional reaction to the preceding recommendations
is best revealed by a survey of the day-to-day business of the Congress. Ac-
cordingly, in this section ^ve catalogue and annotate Senate and House com-
mittee deliberations and floor actions on emplo\-ment and welfare policy in
the months following the Report. Our information comes mainly from the
Congressional Quarterly, Weekly Reports for the period beginning March 1,
1968, and extending through the 31st of September, 1969. This review of
events is by no means fully comprehensive. Very likely, Congressional Quar-
terly chose not to report every floor and committee action of possible inclusion
here. Also, in perusing the Weekly Reports, we may have inadvertently passed
over floor votes, hearings, or reports that belong in our review. Even so, this
accounting of the fate of the Commission's proposals in sessions of the 90th
and 91st Congresses should readily identify the focus and the depth of con-
gressional interest in emplo)ment and welfare problems.
A. Employment : Floor Action
1. Federal assistance for state vocational rehabilitation programs for the
disadvantaged. Final approval in both houses of a 1.4 billion appropria-
tion for fiscal years 1969-71, first week of August, 1968.
2. Senate rejection of resolution asking the Nixon Administration to defer
the closing of 59 Job Corps centers, May 13, 1969.
B. Employment : Committee Action
1. Hearings held on job opportunities for the poor. Consideration of two
bills to authorize 2.8 billion for a t^\o-year emergency program. Bills not
supported by the Johnson Administration. Senate Labor and Public Wel-
fare Committee, April 1, 3, and 5, 1968. Hearings suspended in the House.
2. Senate Labor and Public Welfare Committee reported a bill to
strengthen the authority of the Equal Emplo^-ment Opportunities Com-
mission to act against discrimination by employees or unions, May 8, 1968.
3. House Education and Labor Committee reported a bill to extend the
basic provision of the Manpower Development and Training Act of 1962,
June 27, 1968. Similar action by the Senate L. and P.W. Committee,
July 20, 1968. Neither bills were as comprehensive as those urged by the
Kemer Commission. The Johnson Administration had requested simple
extension of the 1962 Act.
4. Report of the Joint Economic Committee on urban manpower and em-
ployment, based directly on the recommendations of the Kemer Report.
Hearings held May 28, 29, June 4, 5, and 6, 1968. The Joint Committee
broadly agreed with the Kemer recommendations, but offered no specific
legislation to implement such goals as job training, less job discrimination,
and the revitalization of central cities.
Informal hearings conducted by several major city congressmen to hear
charges of job discrimination in the Civil Service and by federal con-
tractors, December 3-5, 1968.
6. Hearings held on economic development of depressed areas by House
PubHc Works Committee, April 15-17, 1969.
7. Senate L. and P.W. Committee asked for a Senate resolution request-
ing the Nixon Administration to defer closing of Job Corps Centers,
April 28, 1969.
8. Hearings held by Senate Finance Committee on increasing incentives
for industry to locate in rural areas, May 21-23, 1969.
9. Hearings held on Small Business Administration loan policies in urban
areas by the Senate Select Committee on Small Business, June 10-12, 1969.
10. Report issued by the House and Senate Public Works Committee to
extend and expand the manpower development and other programs of
the Appalachia Regional Commission, June 30, 1969.
11. Hearings held on migrant and seasonal farm labor problems by the
Senate L. and P.W. Committee, June 9-10, July 15-17, 1969.
C. Welfare: Floor Action
1. Approval given for increased authorization for Food Stamp program
through 1970. Senate, September 26, 1968. House, September 25, 1968.
Senate doubled authorization for fiscal 1970, June 24, 1969.
2. Passage of appropriation of federal funds for work incentive program
for persons under AFDC. The same bill appropriated funds for the Office
of Economic Opportunity below the request of the Johnson Administration.
3. House passed a bill to establish a Presidential Commission to study
hunger and malnutrition in the United States, July 15, 1968.
4. Authorization given for $9 million for fiscal year 1969 and $15 million
in 1970 for grants to public and private health services to agricultural
migratory workers. Action taken in both houses, October 1, 1968.
5. Amendments to Older Americans Act of 1965 passed. People over 60
permitted to offer supportive services in day care centers for children from
poor families and to assist in hospitals or homes for dependent or neglected
children. Action taken in both houses, October 3, 1968. Older Americans
Act extended through fiscal 1972 in the Senate, August 13, 1969.
6. Welfare freeze repealed by both houses, June 30, 1969. Congress acted
in response to pressures from state and local government which would have
assumed greater welfare costs if the freeze on new recipients went into
effect, as scheduled, on July 1 .
7. Passage of extension of the deadline for states to establish compre-
hensive health care programs from 1975 to 1977, June 30, 1969. On the
same day. Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare, Robert Finch,
announced a reduction in the federal contribution to Medicaid payment
to doctors.
D. Welfare: Committee Action
1. Hearings conducted on food assistance programs for the needy by the
House Education and Labor Committee, May 21, 1968.
2. Hearings held on several bills to extend and expand the Food Stamp
program. House Agriculture Committee, June 11-13, 1968. Report to ex-
pand programs, July 2, 1968. Testimony given on amendments to the
Food Stamp program. Senate Agriculture Committee, May 22-23, 26, 27,
1969. Senate Agriculture Committee rejected proposal for free stamps,
July 1, 1969. House hearings held on food stamps, September 3, 1969.
3. A report issued calling for income support for the elderly and for
families with unemployable heads. A negative income tax suggested by
the Senate L. and P.W. Subcommittee on Employment, Manpower, and
Poverty.
4. Hearings conducted on problems of hunger and malnutrition by a
124
Senate Select Committee headed by Senator George McGovern, January
8-10, 22, 23, February 18, May 7, July 9-11, 15, 17, 18, 22-24, 25, 28,
1969. Committee Report on August 7, 1969.
5. Hearings held before the House Committee on Education and Labor on
proposals to authorize an extension of programs under OEO Act of 1964,
March 24, April 16-19, 21, 1969. Committee consideration of Adminis-
tration's decision to close Job Corps centers, April 14, 1969. Senate hear-
ings by L. and P.W. Committee on OEO programs, April 18, 23-25, May
8,^1969. Continued House hearings, April 21-24, 29, 30, May 1, 5-9, 1969.
Consideration given to malnutrition in House Committee, May 21, 23,
1969. Nixon Administration requested a two-year extension rather than
the three- or five-year extensions proposed by House Committee members.
House hearings, June 2, 4-6, 1969.
6. Hearings held on provisions of tax reform bill designed specifically to
give a greater tax break to low-income families, by House Ways and Means
Committee, April 1, 2, 3, 14, 1969. On April 12, President Nixon sent a
tax message to Congress that proposed exempting from all federal in-
come tax those families (of four) with incomes under $3,500 a year.
7. Hearings conducted on medical costs and abuses by Senate Finance
Committee, July 1, 2, 1969.
8. Hearings held on equal employment opportunities by Senate Labor and
Public Welfare Subcommittee on Labor. Proposals made to strengthen
the Equal Employment Opportunities Commission, August 11, 12, 1969.
The preceding inventory of legislative activity amply documents the con-
tinued concern of Congress with employinent and welfare matters in the
post-Report period. The record in fact indicates several committee studies
and hearings addressed directly to the Kerner Report recommendations. The
removal by Congress of a freeze on welfare enrollment, its action to enlarge
the food stamp program, and its passage of legislation expanding the federal
contribution to vocational rehabilitation programs are in step with the Com-
mission proposals, though not necessarily inspired by the Report. In the areas
of education and housing, the 90th Congress moved toward implementing the
Report's recommendations by the approval of higher education and open
housing bills. All this notwithstanding, the 19-month progress report of the
Kerner Commission in Congress is a dismal one. Only a fraction of the Com-
mission's proposals received consideration on Capitol Hill, and still fewer
found their way into public policy. Such key Commission recommendations as
an intensive effort to upgrade the literacy of ghetto residents, or the expansion
and reorientation of public housing, fell on totally deaf congressional ears.
In sum, there is little evidence that the Report charted new directions for
the nation's lawmakers.
This curious species of congressional oversight admits to no single set of
explanations. The callous indifference to the Report by President Johnson
unquestionably dimmed prospects for the recommendations in the 90th Con-
gress. A fuller explanation for the Report'?, weak impact requires, however,
some examination of the procedures, the dominant values, and the centers
of power within Congress. It is also necessary to ask whether the release time
of the Report in the political climate of 1968 and 1969 had not ruled out a
more favorable congressional response. Finally, it may be possible to fault the
Report as a strategic document. We suspect that, by its makeup and the task
assigned the Commission, it was a poor bet to gain an early or sympathetic
hearing in the Congress.
A significant feature of the Kerner Report is the scope of its recommenda-
tions. The remarkable insight and thoroughness of its inquiry into the crisis
of the cities led to proposals on a broad legislative front. But these requests
were addressed to an institution poorly equipped to deal with omnibus de-
mands. More accustomed to stop-gap legislating, a departmentalization of
effort, and incrementalism in policy, the Congress could promise no systematic
treatment of the problems identified by the Commission. In this respect, the
Congress has changed very little from the late Nineteenth Century when
Woodrow Wilson gained scholarly prominence by calling attention to the near
sovereignty of standing committees and the resulting absence of coordinated
policy-making. By conservative estimate, at least ten committees of the 90th
Congress could claim jurisdiction over legislation suggested by the Kerner
Report. At best, the Commission could hope for a willingness to weigh its
findings by pivotal members of the House and Senate.
Aside from an undistinguished report by the Joint Economic Committee,
testimony on hunger and malnutrition before a Select Senate Committee, and
several hearings conducted by the Senate Labor and Public Welfare Commit-
tee, the committees of both houses of Congress were largely oblivious to the
Commission's Report. Committee chairmen were, on the whole, conspicuous
in their coolness toward the Report, and the elected leaders of Congress were
apparently no more inclined to take cues from the Kerner proposals. The 11-
man Commission had included five incumbent members of Congress (and
former Congressman John Lindsay) ; yet none occupied a position of wide
legislative influence on Capitol Hill. None chaired either a committee or a
subcommittee, and none held a congressional party leadership post. Represen-
tative William McCuUoch, ranking Republican on the Judiciary Committee,
was alone in a position to claim extended experience shaping major domestic
legislation.
126
The seniority leadership of Congress had strong political motives for avoid-
ing close identification with the Commission's ideas. Nearly all the chairmen
in the House are elected from Southern or equally safe enclaves in major
Northern cities. The Commission's best publicized conclusion, that white
racism was at the root of the nation's urban racial tensions, was not tailored to
win over legislators of either category. Metropolitan area Democrats from
racially insulated white districts might be prepared to vote for Commission-
inspired legislation, but many were clearly hesitant to endorse a Report that
their constituents might interpret as justifying the violence of Newark and
Detroit. Southern chairmen would be obliged to accept the indictment that
se\'eral Southern states had failed to meet their full responsibility for educa-
tional opportunities and social services. More than one Kemer recommenda-
tion would have the effect of coercing state participation in federally sup-
ported programs.
More straightforward motives undercut support for the Report among
many rank and file congressmen. The Kerner recommendations were easily
viewed as class legislation. Namely, black America was designated as the
prime, or at least the most visible, recipient of any federal generosity. The
Commission's admonition that the crisis of the cities would intensify in the
face of national inaction was viewed by some legislators as a form of black-
mail against the middle-class white taxpayer. In contrast to earlier efforts on
behalf of blacks, when the acceptance of directives by southern officials defined
progress, civil rights in the late 1960's were more expensively purchased. The
second generation of rights legislation in Congress was necessarily more eco-
nomic and social than political, and the North would carry most of the burden.
The anti-inflationary mood that reached the Congress by 1968 armed many
lawmakers with welcomed justification for deferring new programs for the
poor and underemployed. In these circumstances. Great Society legislation
was also threatened.
In great measure the legislative prescriptions offered by the Commission
belong to a category of policy temperamentally disturbing for the Congress.
The nation's lawmakers prefer legislation whose benefits are largely calculable.
Whereas subsidies to industry or for farm commodities can usually be evaluated
against the intended results, programs for the underprivileged typically defy
direct measurement. Experience with social welfare programs have apparently
convinced legislators that, much like aid to developing nations, evidence of
accomplishments is usually elusive. When, for example, is the poverty cycle
broken and when is an acceptable level of adequate housing attained? Even
some of the more obvious yardsticks, such as employment figures, often turn
out to be misleading. As a result, the Congress finds it difficult to remain
committed to heavy expenditures for urban programs over an extended period
of time. Disappointments with several Great Society programs had already
127
eroded congressional support. To be sure, the Kerner Report recommenda-
tions could always be measured by their contribution to reducing the potential
for civil disorders. But for the present, Congress was more likely to opt for a
less expensive approach to stemming riots. It is hardly surprising, then, that
the most noteworthy response of Congress to the "hot" summer of 1967 was to
pass the Crime Control Act of 1968.
The Commission's congressional score card might conceivably have been
improved by a more calculated legislative strategy. The Report, for example,
gives little recognition of the realities of gaining majorities in Congress for
individual recommendations. Requests that involve only the extension or
expansion of existing programs are not distinguished from policies encom-
passing more radical innovations. Increased funding for the rent supplement
program or a provision for below-market interest rates to stimulate low-rent
housing are recommended in the same fashion as a call for a redirection of
urban renewal and public housing policies. Though all are within the com-
petence of the Congress, the Report takes no account of the probable matura-
tion time required before some goals are accepted by the Congress and the
public. Nor does the Report bother, in most cases, to specify the kind of legis-
lation necessary to implement its more far-reaching objectives. The Commis-
sion thus failed to convey the real separability of proposals or a sense of
priority among them. To these self-imposed handicaps, must be added the
unfortunate, though unavoidable, release time of the Report. The legislative
schedule of Congress was already well set by March 1 . Worse yet, the recom-
mendations came to a Congress seeking to adjourn early for the fall presi-
dential campaign. Only a sense of high urgency conveyed from the White
House could perhaps have commanded greater attention among congressmen
for the Report.
To a contemporary Congress that waits for the President to fill much of
its legislative agenda, Lyndon Johnson's icy silence was decisive. Unless a
President is prepared to engage his prestige and resources in the Congress,
little important domestic legislation is likely to clear the plentiful congressional
hurdles. Certainly, then, while Johnson remained President, it was doubtful
that the Commission work would become a focal point of legislation. Evi-
dently, both the rhetoric of the Kerner Commission Report and a number of
its recommendations were embarrassing to the Administration. Johnson had
directed the bipartisan Commission: "Let your search be free. ... As best you
can find the truth and express it in your report." Yet the President apparently
did not anticipate a report that would reach such disturbing conclusions. The
Commission had, after all, found that national and local leadership failed to
come to grips with the causes of urban tensions. Despite the sincerity of
Lyndon Johnson's fight for federal civil rights legislation and antipoverty
programs, America's black and white society were observed as further polar-
128
izing. The batteiy of Commission recommendations for national action in
many instances went far beyond similar proposals introduced to Congress by
the Johnson Administration. To now champion a more ambitious and mili-
tant set of proposals was as risky as it was impractical. Administration endorse-
ment of a report critical of the white middle class was doubtful strategy in an
election year when George Wallace threatened to draw away resentful Demo-
cratic voters. The Administration also stood to endanger its own modest
legislative program if it distracted Congress with the Report. The composition
and mood of Congress had changed markedly since 1965-66. The strengthened
conseivative coalition in the House was certain to deny the Administration any
legislative kudos.
By March, 1968, Viet Nam and not the streets of Newark or Detroit
occupied center stage for the President and most other white Americans.
Eugene McCarthy's New Hampshire performance was still a stinging memory
for Johnson, and Robert Kennedy was gaining momentum as a challenger
for the Democratic nomination. The senators' opposition to Johnson's war
policies was a token of the shift of militant antiwar sentiment from the New
Left to the broad Liberal Establishment. Significantly, it was spokesmen of
the Democrats' Liberal wing who led the praises for the Kerner Report early
in March. Whatever the President's renomination plans, he clearly was of no
mind to put aside foreign policy differences with his critics in order to join
hands in a renewed crusade against poverty and injustice.
Once Johnson on March 31 indicated his intention not to seek renomina-
tion, he also abdicated any possible future role in fostering the Kerner re-
commendations in Congress. With a successor only ten months away, there
was little enthusiasm among legislators, even friends of the Report, for im-
mediate consideration of specific Commission requests. The new President
would be given an opportunity to shape his requests. Plainly, the Report
would experience a strong revival if Robert Kennedy were elected that Novem-
ber. Many legislators were also content to defer action until the election re-
sults gave some sense of public mood in dealing with urban violence.
The comparatively "cool" ghetto summer of 1968 (and then 1969)
lessened the sense of urgency the Commission had tried to convey in its
Report. The largely pacified black communities strengthened arguments that
violence could be contained by more vigorous and intelligent law enforce-
ment. Whatever the truth to observations that black-white relations were
continuing to deteriorate, black leaders appeared anxious to avoid further
confrontation of the sort that gutted black neighborhoods in Washington,
D.C., Detroit, and Watts. These developments, in effect, removed the sense
of crisis that so often leads the Congress to override its natural biases against
upsetting the status quo. The violence that did occur in 1968 and 1969 took
the form of dramatic individual acts or was centered on college campuses.
Neither class of event was likely or hasten the attention of Congress to educa-
tion, employment, housing, and welfare policies envisioned by the Kemer
Commission.
Little that occurred in the 1968 election campaign gave notice that the
Report would become a touchstone for domestic policies in the 91st Congress.
The Republican platform failed to mention either the Kemer Commission or
the OEO by name. At times, candidate Hubert Humphrey alluded to the
Report's recommendations, but Richard Nixon as a campaigner ignored the
Report. Few congressional candidates, moreover, featured an endorsement
of the Commission's work in their campaigns. The national results, in them-
selves, predicted a cool reception for the Report in the next Congress. The
election strengthened the ranks of conservative Republicans, especially in the
House; and continued Democratic control of both houses assured no change
of seniority leadership. Equally important, since majorities in the nation's
major cities had rejected the Republican ticket, Nixon incurred no election
debts to urban blacks. And a post-election as well as a pre-election "Southern
strategy" militated against efforts to conciliate big-city blacks.
President Nixon's first seven months in office were notable for his few
requests to Congress for new domestic programs. Advocates of the Commis-
sion's Report were instead engaged in several defensive battles. For high on
the White House's list of objectives was the stripping of all operating re-
sponsibilities from the Office of Economic Opportunity and the transfer of
these functions to old-line departments. More immediately, some programs,
particularly the legal service to the poor, were to be placed under the veto
of state governors. On the education front, the Nixon Administration sought,
until blocked by the Supreme Court, to delay Southern school desegregation
deadlines. Conser\'ative monetary policies and a trim domestic budget were
signs that the President hoped to cut back the funding on many current
poverty programs. The Administration's decision to fight inflation with in-
creased unemployment also carried a rejection of the Commission's proposals.
The President's economic advisors were apparently prepared to accept the
lay-off of newly trained or marginally employed blacks. Against this back-
ground, the Administration brought about a drastic reduction of Job Corps
centers. To some of these policies the Congress gave its tacit consent; for
others its active approval was required; in a few instances it refused to go
along.
On the brighter side of the ledger, several bills that followed the spirit if
not exactly the letter of the Kemer recommendations seemed likely of passage
by the end of the first session of the 91st Congress. Interestingly, nearly all
had the backing of the Nixon Administration. Legislation to expand the bene-
fits and coverage of employment insurance cleared the House in mid-Novem-
ber. The House Labor and Education Committee reported a bill in early
130
November, already passed by the Senate, to extend programs under the Eco-
nomic Opportunity Act of 1964. By late October the House had passed by a
lopsided vote a housing and urban development bill that continued funding
for urban renewal and Model Cities. A more generous Senate version, passed
earlier in the month, also included rent supplement funding and a new pro-
gram of public housing rental assistance. By December both houses ^vere also
well on their way toward agreement on a comprehensive tax reform bill that
would remove many low-income families from the federal tax rolls. The
House Ways and Means Committee began hearings in November on legis-
lation to hike social security benefits. In other testimony before this Commit-
tee, a radically new welfare proposal came under consideration. More than
any other legislation before the 91st Congress, this proposal contained the
kind of full commitment envisioned by the Kemer Commission.
On August 2, 1969, President Nixon unveiled his long-heralded welfare
report. In its broad outlook the President's proposed revision of the nation's
welfare system bore some resemblance to the Kemer recommendations. The
Nixon plan recognized the need to establish a minimum family assistance
for all Americans. Additionally, it encouraged emplo\-ment by providing a
sliding scale of supplementary' income for the working poor. The President's
program stressed the need to lighten the financial burden now weighing so
heavily on the states and localities and, accordingly. Congress was asked for
an additional $4 billion federal expenditure on welfare. The Administration
and Commission plans thus almost converge on the idea that a thorough
overhaul of the welfare system should begin with a uniform national standard
of eligibility.
In some significant respects, however, the Nixon plan clearly departs
from the Kemer recommendations. Constrained by their budget, the Ad-
ministration sets an income floor at $1,600 for a family of four, or less than
half of the amount suggested by the Commission. No consideration is made,
moreover, for geographic variations in cost of living, except as the states may
provide in their contribution. Mothers of school-aged children are obliged,
under the Administration proposal, to accept training or employment or
jeopardize all benefits. To accomplish this, the NLxon plan seeks additional
child day care centers and job training programs to be administered \vholIy
by the states and localities. Meanwhile, the Office of Economic Opportunity
would be reduced in authorit)' to a "laboratory agency," limited to the re-
search of new ideas to eliminate poverty. Also attached to the welfare pro-
posal is the Administration's "New Federalism," a revenue-sharing plan de-
signed to furnish the states block grants with no strings attached.
The Nbcon welfare proposals face an uncertain future in the Congress.
Initial congressional reaction was generally supportive. Yet in the weeks
and months since the President's speech, the sources of opposition and the
grounds for objection have become more readily identified. Among the first
to demur on the Nixon plan were the welfare rights organizations from the
larger industrial states. They point out, and their congressmen and senators
have taken up the complaint, that in hard cash terms the new plan sets
basic allotments that are well below current monthly benefits. For the ghetto
dweller in the North it will be of small improvement that the federal contri-
bution to the state will increase slightly if his own benefits remain the same
and he faces coercive pressures to accept a job. Only in states with low aver-
age monthly payments will the federal minimum assistance substantially im-
prove the lot of the poor. In a final vote, however, most major city legislators
may be expected to go along with the revisions, even at the presently proposed
level of minimum family assistance. Once on the books and with the prin-
ciple of federal responsibility firmly established, these congressmen can work
to revise the formula for better treatment of the urban North.
Even while the largest increase in federal benefits would go to the South,
Southern Democratic members of Congress cannot be counted as sure votes
for the Nixon plan. Many will find it highly unpopular to vote large sub-
sidies to rural blacks. Furthermore, any substantial improvement in the living
standard of these blacks poses a direct threat to traditional Democratic poli-
tical ascendancy in many areas of the South. To move impoverished blacks
away from the subsistence level is to further undermine the politics of def-
erence and fear that for so long kept blacks from the polls and out of the
social life of their community. Southern Republican politicians might wel-
come action that could conceivably drive white Southern voters into the Re-
publican party. Still, they may ponder whether aid to the Southern blacks
might not revive a formidable loyalist Democratic party of blacks and whites.
Republican loyalists in the Congress would seem to be the front line of
support for the Administration's welfare proposals. Yet the strong economy-
mindedness of Republican legislators may lead some of them into the opposi-
tion camp. These legislators will probably stand with the Administration
under only two conditions. The first is that the revenue-sharing plan remain
a feature of the welfare legislation shaped in Congress. The Administration
itself could defer this program should, for example, military spending continue
to make heavy demands on the federal budget. A second contingency rests
with the legislative leadership skills of the President which, until now, have not
been impressive. Unless he is as convincing to Congress in 1970 as he was to
the American public in August of 1968, many Republican congressmen and
senators will prefer to reduce and not expand welfare coverage. The Presi-
dent's most formidable task will be to persuade his fellow partisans that un-
less the current tensions of the welfare system are checked, the repercussions
may be felt well beyond the ghettos and depressed naral areas.
It is obviously too premature for a final evaluation of the Kerner Report
132
in Congress. The 19-month progress sheet \vas disappointing, but there was
little reason to believe that the legislative process could be induced to move
with greater dispatch. The apparent willingness of the 91st Congress to ex-
periment with urban housing programs, its insistence that antipoverty pro-
grams be sustained, and its hard look at welfare reform give some cause for
optimism. All the same, it seems safe to conclude that the ambitious attack
on urban problems outlined in the Report is far from realization. The Report
will, in all likelihood, be a poor reference to legislation in the 1970's. The
lasting effect of the Commission's work may be its documentation of the vio-
lent events of 1967 and its discussions of their origins. In a search for solu-
tions, however, the Report has probably kept alive the idea that these prob-
lems can yield to our will and ingenuity, and that our system of government
has the capacity to resolve them. This contribution may turn out to be a
notable legacy.
FUTURE RACE RELATIONS
NORTON E. LONG
The future of race relations in the United States is problematic. The Na-
tional Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders (the Kemer Commission)
described a society increasingly divided into two parts, separate and unequal.
The black portion of this society, no longer accepting either the justice or the
inevitability of its condition, is likely to exhibit mounting impatience, aliena-
tion, and in its militants, particularly its militant young, a resort to measures
of desperation. Whites, alarmed at black and white youth, particularly cam-
pus confrontation tactics, and well-nigh panicked by fear of mounting street
crime, are more and more inclined to turn from moderate and civil libertarian
solutions to police measures that they hope may restore their sense of security
and uphold conventional values. Neither blacks nor whites seem to have
reached the point of no return. But the drift course seems ominous.
The Kemer Commission called for a massive program of government
action to reverse the slide into separate hostile societies which its Report
documented. Urban America, Inc., and the Urban Coalition produced a
follow-up report entitled. One Year Later, An Assessment of the Nation's
Response to the Crisis Described by the National Advisory Commission on
Civil Disorders. This report documents that not only President Johnson, who
appointed the Kerner Commission, but the nation and the subsequent Ad-
ministration have failed to take it seriously. While the Kemer Commission's
Report has sold many volumes and had a good press, it has failed to set in
motion sustained political action of a character at all commensurate with the
gravity of the nation's peril which the Report recites or the magnitude of
the measures the Report finds necessary to meet that peril. The conduct of
the Commission, and perhaps to a lesser extent the Commission's staff sub-
sequent to the issuance of the Report, seems peculiarly uncalculated to con-
vince their apathetic countrymen of the Commission's serious conviction of
the gravity of the country's and their own danger. In this the Kerner Com-
mission and its Report do not differ from a tradition of government report-
writing.
With much that is sound and highly valuable, though by no means new
in the Report, what emerged to the public as its essential message and diagnosis
was "white racism" as the cause of the evil and the cancer whose removal was
135
a condition precedent to the curing of the ills of a "sick" society. There is a
great popular attraction to diagnosing social problems as being due to sin
and human wickedness. It has enormous appeal to the theologically inclined
and the militant young. To proclaim wickedness and cast out devils is an
ancient technology. We have used it with plagues, droughts, and even as late
as 1929 with business depressions. However satisfying to those who get their
kicks out of blame-placing or guilt feelings, it is a poor substitute for a com-
petent social science. It is all too likely to lead to useless wallowing in guilt
and moralizing instead of effective social action.
Tom Wicker, in his introduction to the New York Times edition of the
Kerner Report, says, "This report can only provide, as its profoundly dis-
turbed authors concede, 'an honest beginning' on a task that beggars any
other planned social evolution known to human history." Neither Wicker nor
the Commission suggests the political means by which this planned social
evolution is to be achieved. This is another characteristic of report-writing,
to call for programs that admittedly require revolutionary change without
facing up to the political feasibility of such change. In fact. Wicker sees the
political problem as a vicious circle in which you have to get rid of "white
racism" to have the program and you have to have the program to get rid
of "white racism." While Wicker concedes, with President Kennedy, that a
journey of a thousand miles begins with one step, the concentration on the
thousand miles is likely to make one or even quite a few steps seem so slight as
to be scarcely worth taking. There is a well-nigh irresistible tendency to
depreciate advances that are quite substantial in terms of past performances
of the economy by measuring them against what may be Utopian yardsticks.
As the A. F. of L. and C. I. O. point out in their publication, The National
Economy 1969, "The unemployment rate for nonwhite adult men fell from
9.6 per cent in 1960 to 3.9 per cent in 1968." Again they show that "the
median income on nonwhite families rose from $3,233 in 1960 to $5,141 in
1967, the most recent available information — up from 55 per cent of the
median income of white families in 1960 to 62 per cent in 1967. A substantial
gap in family incomes, but it was narrowing."
If one looks at the Labor Department figures that make it appear "that
it requires well over $9,000 a year to maintain a four-person family at merely
a modest standard of living, with few luxuries in urban areas," this does not
seem much to brag about. However, if we note that "the average non-
supervisory worker in private employment in June, 1969, earned $115.06 —
with three dependents, his after-tax take-home pay was $100.34," this gain
takes on a significant comparative perspective. Looking at desirable goals or
sympathetically stated needs, we may be led to unduly depreciate accomplish-
ment or, what is even more dangerous, to direct our attention away from
practical measures because of their apparent inability to produce Utopian
136
ends. The problem of stating goals in terms of needs rather than in terms
of practically attainable objectives is well shown by Anthony Downs in his
essay, "Moving Toward Realistic Housing Goals," contained in the Brookings
Institution's volume. Agenda for the Nation. Downs makes the point forcefully
that the Johnson housing goals of 26 million units in ten years, while justified
in terms of needs, are radically unfeasible unless we are prepared to devote as
much energy to their attainment as we did to winning World War II. As
Downs argues, the unrealism of these goals is likely to lead to cynicism and
frustration on the part of those taking them seriously. Housing spokesmen,
ho^\•ever, will say you have to radically o\-erstate goals to get anything. One
wonders.
Herman Miller, in his Rich Man Poor Man, pointed out the fallacy of
those who, like Arthur Burns, had proclaimed a successful revolution in
which poverty had been banished from American society. However, while
Miller showed that Bums' revolution had expired some twenty or more years
since, in the Eisenhower years, he made it clear that World War II and the
Korean War had been the most successful years of Negro advance that we
have seen and that the stagnation of the nation's growth in the Eisenhower
epoch had been a disaster to Negroes. In some ways, since we should have
known better than to permit it, it was even worse than the catastrophe of the
Great Depression. The lesson of World War II, the Korean War, and the
Eisenho^\■er years needs to be emphasized: a sustained high level of growth
with a demand for labor on the part of employers that forces them to re-
cruit the hard core, to redesign jobs, and to upgrade their present employees,
creating an updraft of employability, has been our most effective means of
bringing Negroes into the main stream. As Lee Rainwater has maintained,
only a recurring experience of employment and its reinforcement has sho\\Ti
much capacity of breaching the culture of poverty and shaping its members
to continuous functioning in the main stream. What this suggests is that a
full emplo)'ment policy is a major means of making progress in race
relations.
It is little short of a tragedy that the inflation attendant on our attempting
to fight a major \var with neither appropriate taxes nor price and wage con-
trols has caused the adoption of a set of anti-inflation policies that are likely
to set back both our Negro employment and housing objectives. If it is
remembered that Negro unemployment, even in good times, is the equivalent
of what would be regarded as unbearable depression by whites, one gets some
sense of the probable impact of an anti-inflation policy designed to damp
down the economy through unemplo)ment. Unless the ancient and proven
rule that Negroes are the last to be hired and the first to be fired is
miraculously disprov^ed in the present instance, current policies may well do
incalculable damage to the efforts to increase Negro employinent. This is not
only a serious matter for Negro adults but far more so for Negro youth. The
A. F. L. and G. I. O. publication, The National Economy 1969, points out
that "the unemployment rate among the rapidly growing number of non-
white teenagers was 25 per cent in 1968 — slightly worse than in 1960." This
is precisely the group from which many of the rioters were recruited and from
which many of the militants and their support are drawn. Whatever one
may think of the Cloward and Ohlin theory of delinquency and opportunity,
the older nonsociological version, "the devil makes mischief for idle hands,"
has considerable force. To make emplo)TTient drastically difficult for the most
Clime-prone element in the population and then counter the predictable re-
sult by increasing the repressive power of the police seems only calculated to
increase our difficulties.
Prime interest rates of 8 per cent and sharply rising land costs are not
only going to stifle any significant addition to moderate and low-income
housing for the present, but they are likely to build into the economy a level
of costs that \vill make well-nigh impossible of attainment do%\Ti-the-road
housing goals. The attempt to pin the responsibility for high housing costs
on labor, whatever its sins, when on-site labor costs, according to the Kaiser
Commission, amounts to but 4-5 per cent of rental or sales housing costs,
10 per cent if interest on the labor cost of the investment is considered, is
clearly unwarranted. Since housing and emplo)Tnent are two of the most im-
portant areas for the improvement of race relations, our inability' to follow
a selective rather than a blunderbuss approach to inflation control may be
the most serious threat to a practicable policy for the improvement of the
Negro condition and race relations. It may also, by aggravating Negro youth
unemplo)'ment and the disaffection of Negro youth, produce an increase in
both crime and violence. The dangers of such an eventuality giving rise to a
repressive police t)pe reaction by dominant elements in the white societ)- is
already apparent. The violent conflict between Black Panthers and police are
a preview of scenario foreseen in both the report of the Kemer Commission
and Skolnick's, The Politics of Protest.
Some who are impatient with recent progress may regard the likely re-
sults of the anti-inflation policy as merely of a piece with what they regard
as the failure of American society to carry out the massive programs recom-
mended by the Kemer Commission. However, while the Kemer Commission
calls for willingness on the part of the society to tax itself heavily to
redistribute resources, a full employment policy and a selective policy of anti-
inflation measures makes no such demand on public altruism, nor does it
require the revolutionar)- politics that more than rhetorically revolutionary
politics require if they are to be seriously pursued.
One Year Later, the report of Urban America, Inc., and the Urban Coali-
tion, makes clear that not much of the Kemer Commission's recommendations
have been acted on. Indeed, in its macroscopic aspects a case can be made
that the Negro condition has worsened rather than improved. It is frequently
pointed out that schools are more segregated than before Brown v. the Board
of Education and that housing is more segregated than before the open hous-
ing legislation. In addition, it has to be recognized that while Negroes have
improved their position absolutely, their relative position has failed to show
equal improvement. It is in terms of the standards of the televised world of
the dominant society that welfare is measured. Health indicators such as in-
fant and maternal mortality sho\v a painful divergence between the perfor-
mance of the two societies. Looking at the indicators of housing and education
and those of relative deprivation, it might well seem that there was reason
for despair and that the extremists who claim the system is radically in-
corrigible have good reason for their view.
Whether or not one takes such a view depends on whether one believes
that the breaks that have occurred in the color bar are merely insignificant
examples of tokenism or whether, on the contrary, one views these breaks as
significant breaches that under favorable conditions will widen rapidly. The
most prestigious institutions in the society — colleges, corporations, suburbs,
governments — now have Negroes in them. The numbers may be small ; but
small or not, they may be sufficient to erode the legitimacy of Negro exclusion
in white as well as Negro eyes. This is certainly true among the elite of the
young in the elite institutions. A black beauty queen candidate making it to
the finals of a University of Alabama contest and to the suite of the queen
can be seen as trivial or as highly consequential in the process of overcoming
white color shock. Glazer and Mo)Tiihan, in Beyond the Melting Pot, saw
the Negro as follo\ving with more difficulty the old ethnic trail. Charles Tilly
and others have pointed to reasons for thinking the differences were more than
those of degree. Hopefully this is not the case. If what the Kerner Commis-
sion calls for is indeed necessary, it is probably beyond the power of American
society as presently constituted.
What is possible in the context of our existing society is a change in the
elite-approved set of values. Looked at from the point of view of the massive
govemmentally sponsored changes advocated by the Kerner Commission,
the entrance of a few Negroes into elite positions in corporations, colleges,
and suburbs may seem pitifully small. However, if this is viewed, not from
a quantitative point of view, but from the qualitative one of a change in the
social signalling system, its importance could far outweigh the numbers im-
mediately involved. Integration at the bottom can occur by compulsion, under
duress of either economic or political coercion, but integration at the top,
even if small, can come from the moral suasion of the Kerner Commission and
Tom Wicker's New York Times. Such integration as occurs by changing the
S)Tnbols of legitimacy can have a profound impact if it is permitted to alter
139
the existing slotting system of role allocation. Thirty years ago Orientals were
at the bottom of the role structure ; today, despite a war and Japanese intern-
ment camps, they have moved ahead of whites. There are major differences
between the social structure of the Negro and the Oriental ghetto, but the
Oriental's experience gives some hope that massive social change, even in the
face of prejudice, is possible without massive government action.
Elite acceptance of a transformation of the position of Negroes in the
role structure can legitimize that transformation and in doing so facilitate
the operation of the economy through which profound transformations occur
with far less resistance than would be faced by an attempt to bull it through
the formal political structure. This is why, at a time when top colleges and
corporations are legitimizing the transformation, it is little short of tragic that
anti-inflation policy should be throwing a monkey wrench into the gears of
a full employment economy. With an expanding economy it is possible, as it
was in World War II and the Korean War, to accommodate Negro upward
mobility without serious threat of displacing whites. It is possible to justify
Negro employment and upgrading as necessary to meet labor market demands
rather than as an exercise of white atonement for white guilt. Experience in
World War II and the Korean War suggests that, however distasteful to the-
ologians and the New Left, this is a more promising avenue than the ex-
ploitation of the guilt feelings of "white racism." A contracting economy,
one that may even see declining employment accompanied by a rising cost
of living, is one to exacerbate all the hostilities in the society.
Such an economy may indeed be felicitous for a Southern strategy and a
return to the traditional verities of Neanderthal economics and Neanderthal
politics. If blue-collar workers are fearful of losing their jobs they may, as
in the past, turn on Negroes as enemies of their security'. If Negro youth is
even more massively unemployed and underemployed than is presently the
case, crime, violence, and the Panthers are likely to be the alternatives to dope
and despair. A stagnant economy is likely to provide a further source of
alienation to white youth and to lead to continuing resort to disruption and
confrontation. Violence on the part of blacks and campus youth has begun
to bring about what Skolnick calls the politics of protest on the part of the
police, who no longer seem content to occupy themselves with bread and
butter unionism but are entering the political arena on behalf of their values.
A public that is torn between backing a strategy of police repression or one of
enlarged opportunities as an appropriate solution is likely to see security with
the police if violence ri^|^
The future of race relations would seem to depend on white leadership
and white attitudes and black leadership and black attitudes. As of the
moment, it seems clear that official white leadership sees the perils of inflation
as more serious than any perils its anti-inflation measures may have for race
relations. The official leadership seems ill disposed to even consider selective
anti-inflation measures that might have less harmful impact on Negro em-
ployment. White business leadership is more divided on the present official
course. It does not seem as yet to be seriously concerned about the impact of
official policy on race relations. The A. F. of L. and C. I. O. at the official
level have sounded the alarm for the likely reason that their own members
are going to pay a price and because they have already had to fight off
George Wallace. The papers are full of news about Black Panthers and the
police. What may give more pause is when a Negro leader such as Whitney
Young in a generally optimistic book, Beyond Racism, says the following:
"Well over 150,000 black veterans have returned home and more are on the
way, and they share that attitude. They're bitter and they are angry — and
they are skilled in the arts of war and the techniques of guerrilla fighting. It
would be insanity for America to continue to treat them the way their fathers
were treated. They won't stand for it."
America seems like a dirty mine. It might go for years without blowing
up or, like Centralia Number Five, take the business-as-usual, no-nonsense
politicians painfully by surprise. Unfortunately, we are all more or less in
the mine though our pose is that of innocent bystanders and, more to the
point, safe spectators. The massive measures that the Kemer Commission
recommended would require socializing the society, at least where the Negro
is concerned. Despite the attractions of the rhetoric of expunging "white
racism" from the American conscience, it is doubtful that there is any likeli-
hood of our taking the revolutionary political action necessary to make the
revolutionary changes recommended. What might be possible is through elite
action so to change the value structure at the top of the society as to bring
about a profound change in the Negro's self valuation and the society's valua-
tion of the Negro. For this to succeed, however, we can ill afford policies that
depress the economy and may well succeed in bringing on depression. Whether
we shall have the wit and the will to avoid this and get on with the business of
using a managed full employment economy to solve the avoidable poverty
of blacks and whites is unfortunately, at this writing, doubtful indeed.
THE POSSIBILITIES FOR POLITICAL CHANGE
MICHAEL PARENTI
A question pressing upon us with increasing urgency is, What are the possi-
bilities for political change in America? More specifically, can the political
system serve as a means for efTecting the substantive reallocations needed to
solve the enormous problems created within and by our socioeconomic sys-
tem? What can we hope will be done about the continued plunder and
pollution of our natural resources, the growth of a titanic military-industrial
establishment, the massive concentration of corporate wealth and all its en-
suing abuses, and the \videspread infestations of rural and urban poverty?
What kinds of solutions are in the offing and, indeed, what kinds of def-
initions do we bring to the idea of "solution"?
Before considering the possibilities of political change, let us give some
critical attention to the usual ways of approaching social problems. Social
scientists and lay commentators alike have commonly assumed that solutions
are arrived at by a process of systematic investigation. By identifying all the
salient variables and then constructing paradigms which unravel the complex
interactions of these variables, we can equip ourselves with inventories of
causes and resources and develop strategies for solution. The remaining task
would be to convince the decision-makers to push the buttons provided by
the social scientists. It is expected that the human stupidity and inertia of
political actors would deter the implementation of certain proposals, but de-
cision-makers are thought to be as hungry as anyone else for viable programs
and sooner or later would not be unresponsive to the promises of science.
This scientistic \aew of social problems presumes that decision-makers are
as immune to the pressures of power and interest as scientists are, or as sci-
entists think they are. What is missing from this scientism is the essence of
politics itself, an appreciation of the inescapability of interest and power in
determining what solutions will be deemed suitable, what allocations will be
thought supportable and, indeed, what variables will even be considered as
"interrelating" and "salient." The presumption that there is a scientifically
discoverable "correct" solution to problems overlooks the fact that social
problems involve conflicting ends and often irreconcilable interests and
value distributions; thus one man's "solution" is often another man's dis-
aster. A "correct" proposal for some political actors is one which resolves the
threat of an opposing interest without causing any loss of privilege, profit, or
status to oneself. This is why the first instinct of established interests is so
often toward halfhearted reform and wholehearted repression ("law and
order"). For other advocates, a "correct" program is one calling for nothing
less than momentous reallocations in the substance and process of the entire
productive system (a remedy which offers a kind of paradigm that usually
escapes the serious attentions of most liberal middle-class social scientists).
Unlike mathematical problems which might be resolved by procedures
and rules exogenous to the life subjectivities of various mathematicians, the
solutions to social problems cannot be treated except in the context of vested
and conflicting interests which give vested and conflicting definitions to the
problem. This is true whether the question is rebuilding the ghettoes or with-
drawing our troops from Viet Nam: the solutions are potentially "at hand"
or "nowhere in sight," depending on the ideological priorities and commit-
ments of various proponents.
The scientistic approach presumes that problems exist because of the pre-
vailing ignorance of the would-be problem-solvers rather than because of
the prevailing conditions of power among social groups. But, again, unlike
mathematical problems which begin and end on paper, it goes without saying
that social problems are never resolved by study but by action. Many of the
social ills we live with have been studied repeatedly, but since they have not
yet been resolved it is assumed by the proponents of scientism that they need
further study. Here we have an uncharacteristic instance of social scientists
pretending to an ignorance they do not really possess. For the last thing
some of our problems need is further study. Witness the hundreds of studies,
reports, surveys, and exposes done on Appalachia by a variety of commissions,
committees, economists, and journalists, extending back more than half a
century.^ Neither history nor the historians have "by-passed" or "neglected"
the people of Appalachia. The material forces of history, in this case the
timber and mining companies that swindled and coerced the Appalachians
out of their lands, exploited their labor, and wreaked havoc on their lives, were
all too attentive to the destinies of that region even though they were never
held accountable for the social costs of their actions. The plunder and profit
which is the history of the region has been duly documented, yet Appalachia
is still treated today as a kind of historical mishap, an impersonal and pre-
sumably innocent development of the "changing times," a "complex situation"
needing our concerted attention.
^ See Harry M. Caudill, Night Comes to the Cumberlands (Boston: Little,
Brown, 1962), for the best of many of the more recent studies of Appalachia.
Similarly, the plight of the urban poor in various western industrial
societies has been studied and documented by official and unofficial sources
for more than a centur)', and in recent decades we have traced the web of
interests, the private and public forces, North and South, at the national and
local levels, which have contributed to, and perpetuated, the black ghettos.
The story is well known to us, but our discoveries have brought forth no
solutions.
To be sure, the first step toward remedy is to investigate reality. But even-
tually if no second step is taken, no move made toward action, then the call
for "a study of the problem" is justifiably treated as nothing more than a
s\-mbolic response, an "appropriate reciprocal noise," designed to convey the
impression that decision-makers are fulfilling their responsibilities." The com-
missioned "study" becomes an act which violates its own professed purpose:
rather than inducing change, it is designed to mitigate the demands for
change. Appearing before the Kerner Commission, the psychologist Kenneth
B. Clark noted :
I read that report . . . of the 1919 riot in Chicago, and it is as if I were
reading the report of the investigating committee on the Harlem riot of '35, the
report of the investigating committee on the Harlem riot of '43, the report of the
McCone Commission on the Watts riot.
I must again in candor say to you members of this Commission — it is a kind
of Alice in Wonderland — with the same moving picture re-shown over and over
again, the same analysis, the same recommendations, and the same inaction.^
By incorporating Clark's admonition into its pages the Kerner Report may
have achieved the ultimate in cooptation, for it, itself, is a prime example of
that kind of official evasion and obfuscation designed to justify the very
status quo about which Clark was complaining. The Kerner Report demands
no changes in the way power and wealth are distributed among the classes;
it never gets beyond its indictment of "white racism" to specify the forces
in the political economy which brought the black man to riot; it treats the
obviously abominable ghetto living conditions as "causes" of disturbance but
never really inquires into the causes of the "causes," viz., the ruthless en-
closure of Southern sharecroppers by big corporate farming interests, the
subsequent mistreatment of the black migrant by Northern rent-gorging land-
lords, price-gorging merchants, urban "redevelopers," discriminating em-
ployers, insufficient schools, hospitals and welfare, brutal police, hostile political
machines and state legislators, and finally the whole system of values, ma-
terial interests and public power distributions from the state to the federal
^ See Murray Edelman, The Symbolic Uses of Politics (Urbana: University of
Illinois Press, 1964), for an explanation of the ritualistic and control functions of
political acts.
^ Clark's testimony is quoted in the Report of the National Advisory Commission
on Civil Disorders (New York: Bantam Books, 1968), p. 29. {"Kerner Report.'")
Capitols which gives greater priority to "haves" than to "have-nots," servicing
and subsidizing the bloated interests of private corporations while neglecting
the often desperate needs of the municipalities. The Kerner Report reflects
the ideological cast of its sponsors, the Johnson Administration, and in that
sense is no better than the interests it served.*
To treat the symptoms of social dislocation (e.g., slum conditions) as the
causes of social ills is an inversion not peculiar to the Kerner Report. Unable
or imwilling to pursue the implications of our own data, we tend to see the
effects of a problem as the problem itself. The victims, rather than the
\ictimizers, are defined as "the poverty problem." This is ^vhat might be
described as the "VISTA approach" to economic maladies: a haphazard
variet)' of federal, state, and local programs are initiated, focusing on the poor
and ignoring the system of power, privilege, and profit which makes them
poor. It is a little like blaming the corpse for the murder.
Part II
In looking to the political system as a means of rectifying the dislocations
and abuses of the socioeconomic system, we are confronted with the un-
escapable fact that any political system, including one which obser\-es demo-
cratic forms, is a system of power. As such, it best serves those who have the
wherewithal to make it serviceable to their interests, those who have control
of the resources of money, organization, jobs, social prestige, legitimacy, time,
and expertise — the resources which command the attention and responses
of political decision-makers. The solution to our problems, then, rests on the
abilit\- to mobilize power dedicated to serving the ends of those who are most
in need of change. But the groups most needful of substantive reallocations
are, by that ver\^ fact, most depri\-ed of the necessary influential resources and
least able to make effective use of whatever limited resources they do possess.
If the poor possessed the material resources needed to \sin substantive pay-
offs, they would not be poor and would have less need to struggle for values
which the economic and political systems readily allocate to more favored
interests. This is the dilemma of lower strata groups : their deprivation leaves
them at the low end of any index of power and their relative powerlessness
seems to ensure their continued deprivation.
The representative institutions of a democratic system, howe\-er, are ex-
plicidy designed to make some allowance for the power of numbers, and if
the poor have nothing else they at least have their numbers. But numbers are
not power unless they are organized and mobilized into forms of political ac-
tion which promise to bring some pay-ofT to potentially sympathetic decision-
* See Andrew Kopkind's excellent critique of the Kerner Commission, "White
on Black: The Riot Commission and the Rhetoric of Reform," Hard Times (No. 44,
September 15-22, 1969), pp. 1-4.
makers or some punishment to recalcitrant ones. And the mobilization of
potential numerical strength requires the use of antecedent resources. Just
as one needs the capital to make capital, so one needs the power to use
power. This is especially true of the power of numbers which, to be even
sporadically effective, requires substantial outputs of time, manpower, pub-
licity, organization, knowledgeability, legitimacy and — the ingredient that
often can determine the availability of these resources — money. The power
of numbers, then, is an influence which is highly qualified by material and
class considerations.
Furthermore, although the poor in America represent a substantial seg-
ment of the population, conservatively estimated at 35 to 40 million people,
they are still a minorit)-. Therefore, even when mobilized for electoral partici-
pation they might have but a limited impact; this seems especially true given
the split between black and white poor. The power of numbers can more
readily ser\-e the majority which identifies itself with the "haves," especially
when the political parties, those instruments ostensibly designed to mobilize
and register the polyarchic will, are in the hands of unsympathetic established
interests whose overriding concern is to maintain their own positions in the
ongoing '"equilibrium."^
Lacking the kind of bargaining resources that would make decision-makers
readily responsive to them, and therefore lacking influence within those
"proper channels" which prove so serviceable to better-endowed interests, the
dispossessed do what they have always done when finally moved by that com-
bination of anger and hope which is the stuff of protest: they try to establish
new paths to the loci of power with the only resources they have : their voices,
their bodies, their buying power, their labor, denunciations and demonstra-
tions, sit-ins and scuffles, boycotts and strikes, the threat of disruption and
actual disruption. The scarcity of resources and the instability of organization
which limit their ability to mobilize their voting power also limit the effec-
tiveness of their protest actions. Nevertheless, the last decade has witnessed a
growing tendency among deprived groups to heed the old populist dictum to
"raise less corn and more hell," to embark upon actions which sometimes in-
convenience the normal arrangements of middle-class life and often upset
middle-class sensibilities.
That is the idea, to inconvenience and upset. By increasing their nuisance
value, the dispossessed hope to achieve a greater visibility for themselves and
a greater sense of urgency in the public mind for their plight. Also, to the ex-
° For tAvo studies of the ways local political parties work to defeat, discourage
and exclude the poor see Philip Meranto, "Black Majorities and Political Power:
The Defeat of an All-Black Ticket in East St. Louis," in Herbert Hill (ed.), The
Revolt of the Powerless (New York: Random House, 1970) and Michael Parenti,
"Power and Pluralism, A View from the Bottom," in Marvin Surkin and Alan Wolfe
(eds.) The Caucus Papers (New York: Basic Books, 1970).
tent that direct actions are indeed a nuisance and disruption, they can be used
as a leverage when dealing with decision-makers: direct action is an attempt
to fabricate bargaining resources and create situations of quid pro quo, thereby
inducing through crude means a responsiveness from officialdom which the
business community accomplishes through more effective and less strenuous
channels.
There are several signs that dissident groups may be reaching a new stage
of development. There is evidence of gro\\ing militancy among deprived
interests: the blacks, Mexican-Americans, and other racial minorities. Also,
there are slight traces, ver\- slight, that in places Hke Detroit and Chicago,
black and white ethnic community leaders are beginning to join forces in
protest action.^ Should the lower-strata \vhites ever overcome their obses-
sive fear and resentment of blacks, and begin to redirect their discontent
against those who o%vti and control so much of the world they inhabit, then
protest in America might well develop a class consciousness more closely ap-
proximating class realities. Finally, since Viet Nam, a feeling of disenchant-
ment has grown among the more literate segments of middle-class America,
of whom college students are the most active and largest element; while
making common cause with the grievances of lower-strata groups, some
middle-class whites are also beginning to question, in the fashion of militants,
the whole quality of life in America.
Yet we should neither overestimate the potential strength of protest groups
nor underestimate the repressive, coercive, and preemptive capacities of the
present system of politico-economic power. From election laws to property
laws, from city hall to federal bureaucracy, from taxation to "welfare," gov-
ernment helps those who can best help themselves and this does not mean
those wanting and needing fundamental changes. The use of police power, the
control of institutions, jobs, and property, the ability to discredit, obfuscate,
delay, and "study" (what Richard Neustadt calls the "almost unlimited re-
sources of the enormous power of sitting still")' are all in the hands of the
powers that be. Moreover, when local, state, and federal officials contend
that the problems they confront are of an order far greater than the resources
they command, we might suspect them of telling the truth; for, in fact, the
major decisions concerning the vast substantive allocations made in our
society are commanded by the private sector of the economy, and the eco-
nomic institutions of a capitalist society are not held accountable for the
enonnous social costs of their profit system.
It is no longer a certainty that ^ve shall be able to solve our social ills by
working with the same operational values and -within the same systematic
"^ See William Greider, "Poles, Blacks Join Forces in Detroit," Chicago Sun-Times,
October 12, 1969, p. 10.
'Richard Neustadt, Presidential Potter (New York: John Wiley, 1960), p. 42.
148
structures that have helped to create them. It does seem that we have seldom
appreciated the extent to which the political system responds to, and indeed,
represents, the dominant interests of the socioeconomic system, and also how
frequently political structures are simply bypassed by a corporate economy
which significantly shapes the quality of our material lives while in most
respects remaining answerable to no one. A more realistic notion of how
power is allocated and used in the United States should leave us less sanguine
about the possibilities for political change.
Unless there is a widespread transition in the political consciousness of
America that will allow us to call to account the ways in which the wealth of
this nation is produced, distributed, and used, we have no reason to hope
that the "guardians of the public trust" will stop behaving like the servants of
the dominant private interests, and no reason to presume that our political
institutions will prove "viable" in treating the tragic life situations faced by
many millions in this country. Given the "three R's" of politics: Reform,
Repression, and Revolution, it can no longer be taken as an article of faith
that we are moving toward the first.
SPEECHES
THE KERNER COMMISSION: ERRORS AND OMISSIONS
MACK H. JONES
When black people took to the streets in 1967, striking out against the
forces of oppression, President Johnson declared a National Day of Prayer
and appointed a commission on riots. At the time, one wag observed that it
would have made just as much sense had the President reversed himself and
called for a study of prayer and a National Day of Riots. A year or so later,
a black judge and member of a similar presidential commission, the Com-
mission on Violence, suggested a moratorium on commissions and a commit-
ment to action. The learned judge, of course, was adding his voice to those
who argue that commissions are appointed to deal with the politics of volatile
situations rather than with the situations themselves. The Kerner Commission,
in my estimation, was no exception. It was a political expedient of the moment
and in spite of the idealistic commitment of some of its members and staff
people (including those of the latter who were fired for apparently taking
their jobs too seriously) , its Report was destined to go the way of many similar
reports - — ■ grist for theses and dissertations and fodder for conferences such
as this one. Thus, I find it a bit ironic that we are gathered here for what has
been called a revisit to the Kerner Report with the implied assumption that
the Report was a prescription for social action. I would have chosen the
terminology "post-mortem" and left off the assumption.
Nevertheless, in spite of my feelings about the barrenness of the Report as
a prescriptive document, I am pleased to join you in this discussion because
I am hopeful that by focussing on the Commission in terms of what it said
and what it did not say and how it managed not to say certain things we
may be able to identify some of the crucial concerns in what has been
euphemistically called race relations. In the next few minutes, then, I want
to discuss the Kerner Report by drawing on my biography as a black man and
a member of an oppressed group, an activist and veteran of the civil rights
movement, a self-proclaimed member of the black liberation struggle, and
lastly and perhaps least significantly, as a professional social scientist. I want
to look at the Report both in terms of what it said and what it failed to say,
and I want to relate all of that to the reality of the black struggle as I under-
stand it. I would then like to close with some comments about the implications
of this for the future course of race relations, which is to say, of course, the
future of American society.
Let us begin by ascertaining what the Commission said. The basic argu-
ment, which has by now become a household phrase, was that the widespread
and unprecedented urban insurrections were the outgrowth of white racism.
More specifically, the Commission argued that white racism was responsible
for the rise of an explosive mixture, and that the mixture, in turn, led to the
rebellions. Among the components of that volatile mixture the Commission
included, inter alia, pervasive discrimination in employment, education, and
housing ; black in-migration and white exodus ; black ghettos ; frustrated hopes
from unfulfilled expectations resulting from great legislative and judicial
victories; a climate which tends to approve of white violence and lawless-
ness directed toward those seeking social and political change; feelings of
frustration and powerlessness ; police as symbols of white power and oppression ;
and a new mood among black youth. The Commission couched its findings
with what was accepted as an ominous warning that American society was
becoming a country of two unequal factions, one white and one black.
Although I would quarrel with the verb form — is becoming — because,
consistent with the will of the white majority, American society has always
been one of two separate and unequal factions, the accuracy of the Commis-
sion's findings are beyond reproach. However, these findings do not come
over very well as discoveries. The listing of the abject conditions under which
black Americans live was little more than affirming the obvious. Any mod-
erately intelligent human being who spends a day or two within these shores
must sense the racist disposition of America and the colonial-caste system
under which blacks are obliged to live. Indeed, these conditions have been
adequately documented in scores of books, journals, and government reports.
That oppressed people react to such oppression in volatile ways is common
knowledge to anyone with even the slightest interest in comparative social
movements.
For example, to reinforce but not belabor the point being made here.
United States Government statistics have long suggested that the overall
economic plight of American blacks is little better than that experienced by
the country at large during the years of the Great Depression. That is a
very important piece of information and cannot be overemphasized; it
answers a host of questions which both liberals and acknowledged racists are
prone to raise. During the longest sustained boom in the histon- of the
American economy its black subjects have enjoyed a recession. What do you
suppose white Americans would have done had the abysmal conditions of the
thirties not been reversed? Singing praises to the government and pouring
libations to the corporations? I doubt it.
At any rate, the foregoing were the major findings of the Kemer Com-
154
mission. That is essentially what it said. What it did was to reduce to elegant
and provocative language what many of us had known and been saying all
the time. Thus^ the only real value in having the Commission restate these
concerns was to give legitimacy to them by enshrouding them with the
imprimatur of the National Government. However, even that asset dissipated
when the President and the Vice President, as well as Congress, ignored its
recommendations and indirectly, if not directly, questioned the accuracy of
the Commission's findings.
So much for the findings. Let us turn to our main task — assessing the
Commission's errors and omissions. The major fault of the Commission is
that it stated its propositions in such general universal language that the
whole society was indicted — not that it should not have been; but by doing
so in such fashion and in such language the responsibility and guilt of indi-
viduals and groups were rendered more obscure rather than clear and specific.
The thrust of the Commission's Report could be summed up as "Everybody is
guilty, but no one is to blame."
Given the political nature of the Commission, essentially a status quo group
working within the ideological constraints of the ver)- structure against whom
the insurrectionaries were presumably rebelling, we should not have expected
more. Indeed, some of the reputed inside stories on the Commission claim
that the "liberal" faction included persons such as Roy Wilkins of the
NAACP and Herbert Jenkins, Chief of Police, Atlanta, Georgia, two gentle-
men who have not been distinguished by their ability to understand radical
behavior. The real tipofl to the status quo orientation of the Commission is to
be found in the two advisory panels which were established to facilitate the
Commission's work. What were the two panels? One dealt with insurance
and the other with private enterprise. Enough said.
Returning to the Commission and its errors, the Report assigned culpa-
bility to white racism, but it made no effort to connect specific behavior pat-
terns of white Americans to white supremacy as a major tenet of western
civilization. It would have been helpful had the Commission defined racism
in a way which would have allowed white individuals and groups to under-
stand— if there are those who do not — when they are performing racist
acts and the implications of these acts for their black compatriots.
Let me indicate what I mean. As Frank Joyce^ has pointed out, to say
that American society is permeated by \vhite racism is to say that most whites
are taught, deliberately or thoughtlessly, that they are better than nonwhite
people. Whether deliberately or thoughtlessly, the implications for black
people are the same. Racism has nothing to do with the nature of one's af-
fective response to black people. Just as one may either love or detest, say,
^ Frank Joyce, "Racism in the United States," in Priscilla Long, ed., Tht New
Left (Boston: Porter Sergeant, 1969), pp. 128-50.
dogs without questioning one's feelings of superiority toward them, so it is
with regard to white racism and black people. A white racist may either
love or detest blacks and react patemalistically or malevolently to their pres-
ence. It does not matter. He is a racist if he believes that whites are superior
to nonwhite people.
To say that American society is racist is also to say that it is organized to
insure the superordinate position of whites. The introduction of the phrase
"organized to insure" is very' important, because it allows us to assign culpa-
bility both individually and institutionally by placing individuals and groups
in their organizational context. The question becomes. What role does this
individual or institution play in maintaining the subordinate position of the
oppressed black American? What does he do to maintain the racist order?
Any act which serves to either enhance the superordinate position of the
whites or thwart the liberation aspirations of oppressed blacks is a racist act.
Such acts may be intended or unintended, conscious or unconscious, benev-
olent or malevolent, hostile or friendly; it does not matter. Acts are racist
because of their impact, not because of the intentions of their perpetrators.
For example, ^vhenever public officials such as those assembled here support
measures which enhance the position of whites at the expense of blacks or
when they fail to support measures designed to facilitate black liberation they
are performing racist acts. The political realities of the situations • — group
pressures, party obligations, re-election concerns and the like — not-with-
standing, such acts would be racist.
Had the Commission indulged itself in this kind of analysis we should
have been at least on the road toward singling out in a specific sense the
racist tendencies of individuals and groups who run this country. Time will
not permit further elaboration, but my point should be clear; it is the acts
of individuals as individuals and individuals as parts of corporate structures
which the Commission referred to in a collective sense as white racism.
A second important failing of the Report was that it failed to put white
racism in a systems context so that we can see who benefits directly and ma-
terially from American racism. I am talking about the economics of racism.
Such analysis, it seems to me, must by definition precede any attempt to de-
vise even the most tentative prescription for change. However, from the
Kerner Report one could infer that either all whites benefit equally or that
they all suffer equally from racism in this country. The truth is that white
racism has a highly differentiated impact in the white community. Only
a small number of the \vhite majority realize immediate material gains while
the remainder must content themselves with psychic payofTs for their racism
(of course, to the extent that all social phenomena are related all whites
profit from racism, but I am talking about direct material rewards). Any
prescriptive solutions, especially those which make demands upon the time
and wealth of the man in the street must take this differentiated impact into
account. I shall come back to this point later.
Since the Commission did not do so, let us raise this question now. Just
who benefits directly and materially from white racism in America? To
answer this question we may div^ide white society into three groups, the
dirty workers,^ those whites above the dirty workers in the pecking order of
society, and the remainder of the \vhite population. Dirty workers are those
whites (and some blacks) who are hired or hire themselves to administer,
contain, and control blacks in their colonial-like environment. These include
welfare workers, policemen, public prosecutors and judges, bail bondsmen,
bill collectors, the rapacious operators of retail oudets in the black com-
munity, loan sharks, landlords, real estate brokers, and — in many respects —
teachers and clergymen. To these we might add the rapidly burgeoning
bureaucracy of the various and sundry poverty programs along with the
dispensers of foundation largesse. Dirty workers, as the term implies, per-
form their tasks in the interest of white society as a whole. White society
expects the dirty workers to keep blacks in line.
Those whites above the dirty workers in the pecking order are those who
either own or have interest in the more legitimate enterprises which traffic
heavily in the black community, as well as those who hire black labor at sub-
standard wage rates. Their profits from racism appear on their balance sheets
along with their profits from their other activities. The function of the dirty
workers is essential to the success of the second group. Both they and the
dirty workers benefit directly and materially from white racism. However,
taken together these two groups constitute only a small portion of the total
white population. The third group is really a residual category which in-
cludes the vast majority of whites. Persons in this group receive no direct
material rewards from their racism. Indeed, the masses of working-class
whites are so impotent, so powerless, that they have few opportunities to
parlay their racism into material benefits.
At this point the logical question would seem to be. If so few people
benefit materially and directly from white racism, why is the problem so
intractable? Well, the Commission could have dealt with that and it was
remiss for not doing so. The Commission could have asked, "To w-hat extent
is the colonial-caste system under which black Americans live functional for
maintaining the present socioeconomic order?" Or more bluntly, "To what
extent is white racism functional in our neo-Keynesian quasi-capitalist econ-
omy?" Of course we know that the decision to bring blacks to this country
in the first place was an economic one. Slaver)' was an important variable in
the development of our economy. We need to raise the question as to whether
that initial relation between the black presence and the economic system has
changed. There are at least some indications that the answer may be negative.
' This interpretation of the dirty workers is also taken from Ibid.
For example, at the moment we seem to be on the threshold of a deliber-
ately induced recession. And, of course, the brunt of the downturn will be
borne by blacks and other marginal workers. Keep in mind that during the
moments of greatest prosperity, the black community enjoys a recession. The
important question I am raising here is what would be the effect of, and the
reaction to, such deliberately induced recessions if there were no black under-
class to bear the brunt of them. My guess is that it would not make life less
difficult for governments and the other major institutions of society. I find
the foregoing to be obvious yet profound questions whose answers are essential
to any discussion of alternative strategies for ending the race problem. If the
Commission had explored these somewhat revolutionary questions, it would
have broken new ground and laid the basis for a dialogue on the implica-
tions of certain economic and political structures for the future course of
race relations. However, as we have already noted, such was not to be. The
Commission was content to propose what amounted to nothing more than a
warmed over version of the much discussed domestic Marshall Plan, even
though it has never been taken seriously by those in positions of power and
trust. Even if such recommendations were taken seriously, there are con-
vincing reasons to question the efficacy of such a scheme, for underlying
the Marshall Plan idea is the notion that the race problem can be solved
without basic structural changes. As I have already intimated, such cannot
be taken for granted.
What else did the Commission say, or rather not say? Let us turn to that
most important chapter dealing with police and community relations. The
Commission was quite candid in discussing the feeling among many blacks
that the police is the enemy, the agent of an alien and oppressive force. Never-
theless, the Commission could have dealt with this problem also in a more
thorough fashion. The Commission did not raise the fundamental question,
viz., in the context of the American socio-political-economic system, what is
the role of the police vis a vis the teeming black urban communities? What
does the broader society expect the police to do about the black community?
Does society envisage the police as protectors of the black community, or does
society look upon the police as dirty workers, as their protectors from the
black community?
Since the Commission did not adequately deal with these questions and
since police-community relations may be the most volatile issue in the entire
equation, it may be worth our while to dwell on it a moment. What are the
answers? I am inclined toward the view that the inarticulate but well under-
stood and widely accepted mandate to the police is to "keep the niggers in
their place." The media are full of examples which reinforce this argument.
One incident which occurred during the rebellions of 1967 serves as a very
graphic example. It was reported that when looters spared the windows of
158
stores identified with the sign "Black owned," authorities on street patrol
gratuitously broke the windows of the store fronts which had been spared
by the looters. Such behavior suggests very strongly that the authorities see
themselves involved in a struggle between blacks and whites rather than be-
tween the la^vless and the law. Granted isolated examples do not make gen-
eral laws, I still find that example very instructive. Similarly instructive is the
example of New York police attacking members of the Black Panther Party
as the latter reported for judicial business on city property. And, of course,
so is the current violent campaign against militant black groups. My files on
police-community relations reveal numerous other examples. There is one of
the open defiance of the black mayor of Cleveland, Ohio, when his police
felt that he was being soft on the "niggers" and another indicating similar
police behavior when a black judge in Detroit, Michigan, moved to protect
the constitutional rights of black citizens in that city. To go on would be to
belabor the point which, by now, should be clear: the police are perceived
by many, including many of their own, as dirty workers.
Finally, let us explore the Commission's errors regarding the new mood
in the black community. The Commission discussed what it entitled "Black
Power" in little more than two pages. The major thrust of this part of the
Report was the argument that the new mood in the black community was
really old wine in new bottles, and that therefore it represented a retreat from
integration and confrontation with racism. This may have been the greatest
disservice of the entire Report, because while black power may be old wine in
new bottles, the Commission had both the wrong wine and the wrong bottles.
The new mood in the black community is a function of the intensification of
the old argimient between nationalists and integrationists which has been
going on in the black community since the days of Frederick Douglass and
Martin Delany. These two currents have always been present in the black
community. Historically, those blacks espousing integrationism as an ideology
have allied themselves with forces in the white community, and as a result
the black liberation struggle has always been controlled in varying degrees
by whites. Meanwhile, those who accept nationalism as the optimum sustain-
ing ideology for the black struggle have always constituted an isolated and
relatively impotent minority with little or no standing in their communities.
The new mood which the Commission tried to deal with with its "wine-bottle"
analogy is really an indication that the followers of integrationism as an
ideology are losing out to the nationalists. Although this development is more
pronounced among the young, it is taking hold in every sector of the black
community. Leronne Bennett,^ Senior Editor of Ebony and perhaps the
most capable contemporary historian of the black movement, refers to this
as the unveiling of the veils. He suggests that as successive panaceas — in-
^ Ebony (August, 1969).
eluding integrationism — are tried and proven barren, the black struggle
moves to a different level of struggle. Integrationism, the argument goes,
has been proven barren and the dialectic has ushered in a stage of nationalist
rebellion characterized by the ascendancy of nationalists and nationalism.
This interpretation of the new mood among blacks is very important and
ought to be given careful consideration by those who have decision-making
authority in this society, because if it is valid and should the trend toward
nationalism continue, America will be faced with the choice of making
fundamental concessions or opting for total suppression of blacks, because
once nationalism takes hold it is doubtful that a people will continue to
passively accept a life as a half-free people.
Having come this far in my forboding, yet honest, analysis, I want to
close with some thoughts on the future course of race relations in America.
Since the Kerner Report was issued almost two years ago, as the background
papers for this conference demonstrate, things have gotten worse for black
people. Social welfare programs are being cut; the Nixon-Mitchell Adminis-
tration is obviously unfriendly toward the black liberation struggle; hostile
forces have been sent to city halls and state houses in alarming numbers;
police forces around the country have stockpiled monstrous arsenals to pacify
black communities; the McClelland subcommittee has published more than
20 volumes, including police mugshots, on radical groups paving the way
for quick identification and perhaps elimination;* demographers tell us that
black in-migration to the cities will continue, and we do not need demog-
raphers to tell us that whites will continue to run to the suburbs. Thus,
cities are likely to become impoverished islands inhabited by nationalist-
oriented black people and surrounded by affluent suburbs inhabited by na-
tionalist-oriented white people.
And add to that cauldron a new and volatile variable and we have a
sobering glimpse of the future. The new variable is direct competition and
conflict between blacks and working-class whites. In the past, the era of the
civil rights movement, the major thmst of the black movement was toward
symbolic goals, goals which could be satisfied by legislative and judicial de-
cisions, tokenism, and a few individual rewards. Although such concessions
aggravated the more rabid whites, they cost the average white man nothing
more than his abused sense of superiority. The future will be different. Con-
temporary and future goals of the black movement cannot be met on indi-
vidual and symbolic bases. They can be met only through very expensive,
both materially and psychologically, compensatory programs based upon
group considerations, programs which single out blacks as special objects of
societ'/s attention and treasures. The white worker who has not benefitted
* U.S. Senate, Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations, Hearings, Riots,
Civil and Criminal Disorders, 90th Congress, 1st Session. See especially Part 20.
160
directly and materially from his racism and who sees himself as being in the
same economic straits as the dispossessed and powerless blacks can be ex-
pected to revolt, especially when he is being asked to pay part of the bill.
However, I hasten to add that I see no evidence that any government is
prepared to advocate such compensatory programs and rile the white worker.
Politicians have "discovered" the white worker and his political worth (the
silent majority, forgotten American, middle American), and begun appealing
to him and his fears with an eye on future election returns.
Where does this cauldron lead? The implications are both ominous and
obvious. If anyone can reverse this trend, and I am not very optimistic on
this score, it is you, men of power and wealth in this society. The hour is late;
as existentialist men, the choice is yours.
RIOT COMMISSIONS AND POLITICAL CHANGE
DAVID J. OLSON
I am pleased to address my remarks tonight to the topic chosen for dis-
cussion by the Illinois Assembly. To revisit the Kemer Commission some 22
months after its findings were made public is not only appropriate but nec-
essaiy if serious consideration is to be given to this society's capacity for mean-
ingful response to the fundamental domestic problem of guaranteeing black
Americans equity. Many public officials, scholars, and concerned citizens are
similarly engaged in reviewing what progress has been made on the race rela-
tions front over the past two years. Their inquiries have been stimulated by
the repeated occurrence of racial violence and the demonstrated refusal of
white authority figures and structures to listen to this form of political pro-
test. The more sober analyses consistently conclude on a highly pessimistic
note regarding this society's response capacity. A typical representative here is
the study "One Year Later" by Urban America and the Urban Coalition
which charts the movement of America in the direction most feared by the
Kemer Commission: two separate and unequal societies, one black and one
white.
To read the background papers for this conference is to be struck by a
similarly uniform agreement among the various authors on the absence of
changes in the social, economic, and political status of black Americans since
the release of the Kerner Commission's Report. A few authors admittedly do
chart some minor changes that have occurred since the Report's release on
March 1, 1968. But these minor changes are exceptions to the more general
pattern in which the status quo has been reinforced. The isolated exceptions
noted fall only at the margins and are, at best, small increments in a setting
that all authors seem to agree demands basic and fundamental change.
The Kemer Commission's Report projects three alternative action courses
available in the aftermath of civil violence in the 1960's. These include con-
tinued pursuit of present policies, ghetto enrichment, or integration. It is
clear from the background papers at this conference and from other anal-
yses that our society has not pursued policies of ghetto enrichment nor has it
opted for the Kemer Commission's choice of policies consistent with integra-
tion principles. Rather, we have continued to pursue what were present
policies during the Kemer Commission's deliberations to a greater extent
than the other two options available. But even this description is not a
totally accurate picture of what has transpired in race relations since the
recent civil disorders. If anything, the previous policies have been intensified
and reinforced by the politics of polarization, by augmented social control
forces, and by increased private arms sales to fearful and threatened whites
and blacks.
Why has this response pattern prevailed rather than alternative ones sug-
gested by the Kerner Commission? Why have status quo or punitive policies
triumphed at the expense of ameliorative solutions aimed at the source of re-
cent civil disorders? Why have the Kerner Commission's recommendations
been spumed in favor of short-term suppressive measures? This conference
appropriately raises the issue of what obstacles have prevented the latter and
encouraged the former kinds of responses. The background papers point to a
number of obstacles to fundamental change within selected policy areas. But
what is missing in all this discussion, may I suggest, is an assessment of the
role riot commissions themselves play in fostering or preventing meaningful
political change. If we are serious in revisiting the Kerner Commission, then
some attention to riot commissions' role in stimulating or blocking political
change is called for.
The primary perspective of my presentation is that riot commissions
represent obstacles to fundamental political change. I do not mean to suggest
by this that riot commissions have a monopoly on obstructing changes de-
manded by blacks and some whites after civil disorders have subsided. Nor do
I mean to suggest that the obstacle riot commissions represent is entirely of
their own making. I do mean to suggest that riot commissions are devices by
which dominant power interests deflect demands for power redistribution in
the aftermath of civil violence. My argument is that as deflection devices,
riot commissions remove immediate pressures for meaningful action and, in
long-range terms, are basically unable to accomplish a redistribution of power
for reasons inherent to all riot commissions.
The regularity with which mayors, governors, and presidents appoint ad
hoc riot commissions immediately after civil disorders is impressive if not
surprising. Any survey of riot commissions from 1917 to 1943 and again from
1964 to 1969 results in an impressive catalogue of official investigative bodies.
But this should not be surprising in view of the position political executives
find themselves in when their city, state, or nation experiences race riots or
civil disorders. In the immediate aftermath of cataclysmic racial violence,
political executives are faced with demands for meaningful action but lack
ready recourse to resources for responding to those demands. But ad hoc,
temporary, or advisory commissions are one alternative available to all polit-
ical executives. Creating such commissions gives the appearance, moreover,
of doing something meaningful about the massive disruptions that have inter-
rupted the city, state, or national politics as usual. But it also does something
more. It holds out the promise that, after serious investigation, programmatic
recommendations will be advanced to remedy the causes of racial violence.
The failure of past and recent riot commissions to fulfill that promise repre-
sents an important obstacle to fundamental political change in this society.
Riot commissions are fairly consistently charged with three primary
tasks: to answer questions concerning what happened, why it happened, and
what can be done to prexent racial violence from happening again. The task
of thoroughly investigating the first and second questions leads to expectations
that riot commissions will provide an accurate, factual, and literal account
of events that transpired during civil disorders and of causes that gave rise to
disorder events. But these expectations are fulfilled rather irregularly. For
example, the McCone Commission incorrectly described what happened in
the 1965 Los Angeles riot as "formless," "senseless," and "hopeless" violence
"engaged in by a few" and then went on to attribute the riot's cause to dis-
respect for law and to "brutal exhortations to violence." Contrast this ac-
count with the Mayor's Development Team in Detroit which saw the dis-
order there as a form of protest that resulted from long-standing grievances
concerning police, housing, emplo)'ment, and education policies. The ir-
regularity of such disparate conclusions is attributable to constraints that are
generic to riot commissions as organizations.
Three primary constraints on riot commissions' abilit)^ to speak accurately
to questions of xvhat happened and why it happened may be identified. First,
riot commissions lack adequate time and resources to accomplish a thorough
research effort on riot events and causes. The Kerner Commission and the
Governor's Commission in New Jersey had less than three months to conduct
research while the McCone Commission and the Mayor's Development Team
had even less time than that to carry out their research efTort. Resources for
complex research were similarly insufficient, as each of the riot commissions
failed to receive funds and manpower initially promised them. Second, riot
commissions' ability to speak forcefully and accurately to riot events and causes
is limited by the political environment into which their reports are released.
Determining what can be said in a politically acceptable way often supersedes
the presentation of factual accounts. The quest for political truth at the ex-
pense of literal truth about riot events and causes is a characteristic common to
all recent riot commissions to a greater or lesser degree. Third, the member-
ship composition of riot commissions influences the content of final reports in
important ways. Members are selected because they represent prestigious and
dominant institutions that give importance and visibility to riot commission
activities. But these same institutions represented usually had some associa-
tion with riot events or causes. The inability of institutional representatives to
165
accurately report the nature of that association is a self-evident limitation on
riot commissions' quest for literal truth.
The above-described internal constraints impinge on riot commissions'
ability to fulfill the first two tasks usually assigned to them by political execu-
tives. But it is the third task of formulating measures designed to prevent
racial violence from recurring that is most important in the present considera-
tion. Its importance derives from expectations that programmatic recom-
mendations advanced by riot commissions will have an impact on public policy
and will stimulate meaningful change in the status of black Americans. Ex-
pectations that riot commission recommendations will be implemented his-
torically have not been and contemporarily are not being fulfilled. The
absence of an impact by riot commission recommendations is not simply an
accident. Rather, it can best be explained as a consequence of inherent con-
straints built into riot commissions as organizations.
Riot commissions are relatively powerless organizations. By their very
titles they are "select commissions," ''study commissions," or ''advisory com-
missions." After creation by political executives, riot commissions are not
given formal powers to bring about the implementation of their recommenda-
tions. Such recommendations remain as purely suggested or advisory measures
unless riot commissions are able to form supportive relations with interest
groups or other key officials that result in the conversion of recommendations
into public policy. Thus, riot commissions adopt a variety of strategies to over-
come their relatively powerless status in order that their recommendations
might be implemented. But limitations on strategies pursued in the imple-
mentation process are sufficiently numerous and consequential to constrain riot
commissions' ability to influence public policy in the race relations area. For
the remainder of this presentation I shall concentrate on limitations inherent
in riot commission strategies to (1) maximize their reports' visibility, (2)
monopolize legitimacy in interpreting civil disorders, (3) reassure aroused
groups, and (4) anticipate needs of public officials.
An initial strategy of riot commissions to overcome their powerlessness is
to seek maximum visibility for their reports in the hope that such visibility
w411 further their recommendations in the implementation process. To this
end, riot commissions pay significant attention to the audience addressed in
their report and consciously attempt to gain coverage of their reports through
press conferences involving considerable fanfare as their reports are released.
But this strategy may backfire. The mass media in New Jersey overplayed
that riot commission's passing reference to official corruption in Newark at
the expense of discussing issues more central to the riot phenomena. Similarly,
the national press concentrated on the Kerner Commission's reference to
"white racism" in a manner inconsistent with the relative emphasis given
that term in the Kerner Commission Report. Thus, unintended and unantici-
pated consequences of seeking maximum visibility for commission reports may
involve the mass media's playing up controversial but relatively minor aspects
of commission reports.
A second strategy for increasing the likelihood of recommendations being
implemented is for riot commissions to claim a monopoly on legitimate
interpretations of civil disorders. That is, if riot commissions can establish
their interpretation of civil disorders as being correct, the probability of their
recommendations derived from those interpretations being accepted is in-
creased. But alternative interests that may not be represented on riot com-
missions frequently contest the validity of official commission interpretations.
"Competing riot commissions" are formed by antagonistic interest groups for
purposes of advancing counter-claims on how the disorder events are to be
interpreted. The competing riot commissions attempt to undermine the kinds
of interpretations advanced by official riot commissions. For example, the
McCone Commission's conser\-ative reading of the 1965 Los Angeles disorder
was immediately challenged by a more liberal reading from the California
Advisor}- Commission of the United States Commission on Civil Rights.
Similarly, the New Jersey commission was challenged by a state Policeman's
Benevolent Association commission and the Kemer Commission generated a
competing mvestigation from the McClellan Committee. These competing
commissions employ many of the same strategies and tactics as official riot
commissions in manipulating the symbols of legitimacy. The difference be-
tween the two forms of commission activity is that official commissions are
usually of a temporary nature and lack an on-going base of support, whereas
competing commissions arise from powerful interest groups that are perma-
nently established to influence public policy. Competing investigations by
antagonistic interests significantly undermine the second strategy of riot com-
missions to further their recommendations in the policy arena.
Offering reassuring statements to otherwise aroused groups is a third
strateg)' by \vhich riot commissions attempt to augment their power status.
Dispelling popular rumors and myths while at the same time interpreting dis-
turbing disorder events in the context of traditional American beliefs gives riot
commissions the appearance of bodies with which most citizens can identify.
But riot commissions at the same time must advance programmatic recom-
mendations that, by their very nature, are politically controversial and there-
fore will alienate some citizens. The contradiction between the reassuring
function and the prograirmiatic function is basic and inherent in the riot
commission process. While some citizens or groups may be quieted by re-
assurances forthcoming from riot commissions, these same citizens may be
aroused into opposition by the controversial nature of programmatic recom-
mendations that are at odds with their political interests. The publics to whom
commission reports are addressed may be relatively united in agreement on
167
fundamental precepts of the American belief system, but quite divided on how
those precepts are translated into public policy recommendations. The in-
ability of riot commissions to reassure divided publics in their recommendatory
function is a consequence of the degree to which such recommendations favor
some interests and disadvantage other interests. Thus riot commission strategy
aimed at reassuring aroused publics is basically incompatible with the issuance
of controversial programmatic recommendations.
A final strategy adopted by riot commissions is to anticipate the political
needs of key officials in the governmental process. One tactic here is to
treat lightly the riot-related behavior of political executives, most of whom are
involved in riots to the extent that mayors, governors, and presidents command
the social control forces that suppress racial violence. Such command activities
may be a subject for riot commission review. The virtual absence of criticism
of political executives appears to be a consequence of riot commissions' de-
pendence on these same officials for the implementation of their recommenda-
tions. Beyond not commenting on executives' riot-related behavior, riot com-
missions adopt perspectives that are meant to "fit" the political needs of elected
officials. Thus the New Jersey commission set a target date of January 1,
1968, for the release of its report so that the Governor would have its recom-
mendations for consideration in his annual message to the state legislature.
Similarly, the Kerner Commission adopted the President's "message on the
cities" as a framework for some of its programmatic recommendations, an-
ticipating that this would coincide with his legislative goals. The expecta-
tion here was that the President would use the Commission's recommendations
as a tool for furthering his ovm domestic program. The problem with this
strategy is that it is a one-way street. That is, riot commissions are forced
to adopt perspectives of the executive, but they have no assurance that political
executives will pick up the recommendations and pursue them. President
Johnson's reception, or lack thereof, of the Kerner Commission Report
illustrates the dependency this strategy involves riot commissions in. Antici-
pating the needs of critical political executives does not insure that such
executives will further riot commission recommendations.
Each of the above-reviewed external strategies involves inherent con-
straints that prevent riot commissions from implementing their recommenda-
tions in the political process. Kenneth Clark observed as much in his testi-
mony before the Kerner Commission when he recalled that reading riot
commission reports of the past was like "Alice in Wonderland — with the same
moving picture re-shown over and over again, the same analysis, the same
recommendations, and the same inaction." But, as demonstrated above, the
failure to implement recommendations of riot commissions is not so much a
failure of riot commissions per se as it is a commentary on the larger political
system's intransigence and inability to meet demands of black Americans. If
riot commissions are not necessarily a willful party to this politics of intransi-
gence, how can they be viewed as obstacles to fundamental change as they were
described at the beginning of this discussion?
Riot commissions are essentially conservative devices by which political
executives remove pressure from themselves for meaningful and immediate
action by consigning racial problems to study. At the point of their creation,
riot commissions are given considerable visibility and attributed importance by
political executives. Mayors, governors, and presidents search out the offices
of powerful interests for representatives to study the conditions leading to
riots and hold out the promise that programs generated by commissioners de-
signed to diminish the incidence of riots in the future will be enacted. But
the program recommendations advanced by riot commissions are usually not
adopted by those same political executives creating the commissions. After
considerable passage of time while riot commissions have deliberated on what
kind of report to adopt, the previous demands and political arousal necessi-
tating the creation of riot commissions have faded and more stable patterns
of political interaction have been restored. In this setting of politics as usual,
political executives are efTectively able to ignore commission recommendations
that they previously had promised to attend to. Recognizing this situation,
riot commissions may attempt to influence critical actors in the political sys-
tem to accept their findings and program proposals. But riot commissions
normally fail in this effort because they have no apparent constituency, no
ready support system, and no formal, legal sanctions to deploy against other
political actors and groups. Their advisory and temporary status precludes
successfully playing the pressure group politics game. But more importantly,
and tragically, threats posed by civil disorders to given political power group-
ings and dominant interests are conveniently deflected in an immediate sense
and defeated in an ultimate sense by riot commission activities. Riot com-
missions function to literally study American racial problems to death.
AUTHORS
AUTHORS
J. M\-RON Atkin, Dean, College of Education, University of Illinois
David J. Bordua, Professor of Sociolog)-, University of Illinois
Walter Franke, Professor of Labor and Industrial Relations, University of
Illinois
Gene Graham, Professor of Journalism, University of Illinois
Mack H. Jones, Professor and Chairman, Department of Political Science,
Atlanta University
Thomas Kitsos, Research Associate, Institute of Go\ernment and Public
Affairs, University of Illinois
Norton E. Long, Professor of Political Science, University of Illinois
Philip Meranto, Assistant Professor, Institute of Government and Public
Affairs, Universit)' of Illinois
Michael Murray, Assistant Professor of Political Science, University of
Illinois at Chicago Circle
David J. Olson, Assistant Professor of Political Science, Indiana University
Michael Parenti, Visiting Associate Professor, Institute of Government and
Public Affairs, University of Illinois
Joseph Pisciotte, Assistant Professor, Institute of Government and Public
Affairs, University of Illinois
Merlin Taber, Professor of Social Work, University of Illinois
Marvin Weinbaum, Associate Professor of Political Science, University of
Illinois
173
PARTICIPANTS AND STAFF
PARTICIPANTS AND STAFF
Mr. Wayne F. Anderson
City Manager
Evanston
Professor J. Myron Atkin
Dean
College of Education
University of Illinois, Urbana
Mr. Vernon Barkstall, Exec. Dir.
Urban League of Champaign Co.
Champaign
Mr. Charles L. Dancey
Peoria Journal Star
Peoria
Mrs. Orville Foreman
Jacksonville
Professor Walter H. Franke
Institute of Labor and Industrial
Relations
University of Illinois, Urbana
Mrs. Irvan Gal\in
Chicago
"Mr. Lewis Gold
Instructor, Department of
Political Science
University of Illinois, Urbana
Professor Gene S. Graham
Department of Journalism
University of Illinois, Urbana
Professor Robert Heifetz
Department of Urban Planning
University of Illinois, Urbana
*Indicates round-table chairmen
Dr. James B. Holderman, Exec. Dir.
Board of Higher Education
Springfield
Mr. Edward Holmgren, Exec. Dir.
Leadership Council for Metropolitan
Open Communities
Chicago
Mr. Jacob Jennings
Board of Higher Education
Chicago
Professor Richard M. Johnson,
Head, Department of Political Science
University of Illinois, Chicago
Mr. David Keene
Mayor
Carbondale
*Professor Lyman A. Kellstedt
Department of Political Science
University of Illinois, Chicago
Mr. Charles J. Komaiko
Allstate Insurance Co.
Northbrook
Mr. Keith Lape
Office of Superintendent of
Public Instruction
Springfield
Mr. Barnett Larks
Asst. Chief, Downstate Operations
Illinois State Employinent Service
Chicago
Mr. Robert Lenhausen
Director Dept. of Local Govt. AflPairs
Springfield
Mr. KUrold Liston, Editor
The Daily Pantagraph
Bloomington
^Professor Michael A. Murray
Department of Political Science
University of Illinois, Chicago
Mr. Roger W. Nathan, Exec. Dir.
Illinois Commission on Human
Relations
Chicago
Representative James D. Nowlan
Toulon
Mrs. Athan Pantsios
Chicago
Professor Michael Parenti
Institute of Government and Public
Affairs
University of Illinois, Urbana
Mr. Edward Parsons,
Assoc. Exec. Dir., Welfare Council
of Metropolitan Chicago
Chicago
Representative Daniel M. Pierce
Highland Park
Professor Julian Rappaport
Department of Psychology-
University of Illinois, Urbana
Representative Leland H. Rayson
Tinley Park
Mr. Robert A. Stalls, Director
Carbondale Model Cities
Carbondale
Representative Paul Stone
Sullivan
'5^PB-7200-23
Dr. Jack Van Der Slik
Political Science Research Fello\v
Illinois Legislative Council
Springfield
Mr. George Warneke
Senate Municipal Corporations
Committee
Chicago
Professor Norbert Wiley
Department of Sociology
University of Illinois, Urbana
Dr. Franklin D. Yoder, Director
Department of Mental Health
Springfield
Professor How^ard M. Ziff
Department of Journalism
University of Illinois, Urbana
Guest Speakers
Professor Mack Jones, Chairman
Department of Political Science
Atlanta University
Atlanta, Georgia
Professor David J. Olson
Department of Political Science
Indiana University
Bloomington, Indiana
Chancellor Jack Peltason
University of Illinois
Urbana
Staff
Director Samuel K. Gove
Professor Philip Meranto
Mrs. Jean Baker
Reporters
Mr. Ed Crego
Mr. Dennis Judd
Mrs. Alison Lauriat
♦Indicates rouifflAabk^^irnien
c
178
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UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA
301.451AS73K C004
THE KERNER REPORT REVISITED URBANA
3 0112 025280634
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